


a Little History of Us

by bestworstperson



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Bisexual Chaos, Eventual Smut, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, More tags to come!, Mutual Pining, Panic Attacks, Slow-ish burn, everyone is sad, finn is an astrophysicist for reasons that are unclear to even me, i cannot stress enough how much i do not understand astrophysics please do not expect real science, no beta we die like men, short kings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:29:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 34,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24785440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bestworstperson/pseuds/bestworstperson
Summary: Poe was supposed to continue the family legacy, but Leia's death changed everything. Finn just wanted to secure his funding for next year, but the cute barista keeps pulling his focus. Both of them drawn to each other, both of them terrified of what it might mean.
Relationships: Finn & Rose Tico, Poe Dameron/Finn, Poe Dameron/Finn/Rey
Comments: 48
Kudos: 30





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's another slog of a shift, but fortunately, a visitor makes things a bit more tolerable.

Poe Dameron was supposed to be someone. Specifically, a pilot. First in his class, leader of the pack, another point of pride in the family legacy. He was supposed to be someone because she'd believed he could be. Everyone had always assumed he worked so hard, staying after hours to train longer, pouring over pages and pages of old flight plans and tactical briefs because, after all, he was a Dameron. And that’s true, yes, but it was also because of her. Leia. She'd always believed in him and pushed him to do and be more. When she’d find him running drills on the flight simulator at 3 am because he was once again too on edge to sleep, they'd walk the grounds until dawn and she'd tell him stories about his mom. Every story on those nights ended the same way: Leia pulling him into a hug, Poe hunching over slightly to rest his “You are so much like her, Poe.” Leia’s passing was devastating. A blow to the academy, of course, but nothing compared to the crushing weight that came crashing down on Poe when he heard the news. 

When he told the academy he was dropping out mid-semester and they did little to assuage him - though made it abundantly clear he should not expect a refund check for the prorated tuition - it confirmed what he'd always suspected. What he'd always feared. Without Leia in his life, there was no one left to believe in him. 

Poe Dameron was supposed to be someone. But now, he’s a barista.

* * *

“Iced latte and a croissant. That’ll be $9.50. And you can pick up your latte at the end of the bar.”

“Thanks, man.”

Poe is one hour into a five-hour shift and fading fast. Business has been steady since he got here, but he is  _ struggling _ . He just wants to go home and sleep. Why the hell had he let Rey convince him to go out last night? Rey never met a shot she didn’t like and Poe never met a Rey he could say no to. Which is why what should have been dinner and a couple of beers turned into a couple of beers, five shots of tequila, something the bartender referred to as the “American Royal”, and a rogue handful of tortilla chips. One of them may have had queso on it but he wasn’t sure.

He checks the time again and realizes that, on the bright side,it’s almost time. He slides his phone back into his pocket and starts making a drink. He’s just finished pouring it into a mug when the bell attached to the door dings loudly. 

“One Americano and one oat milk cortado.” 

“You remember my coffee order. And my schedule,” the man says smugly. He’s come into the shop at the same time and ordered the same thing every day for the past month. 

“That’s my job.” 

He casts a skeptical look at Poe. “I’m pretty sure your job is to make what the customer orders. What if I came in here today wanting an iced latte to go?”

“Do you want an iced latte to go, Finn?” Poe asks, keying the order into the register.

“Six bucks, isn’t it?” 

“Twelve with tip,” Poe looks up at Finn through his eyelashes. Purposely and relentlessly flirty. 

“I don’t know, the barista kind of has an attitude today.” Without missing a beat, Finn quickly tosses fifteen dollars on the counter and heads for the table in the corner.

Poe smiles to himself as he closes the transaction.

Finn doesn’t need to come to the coffee shop every day, of course. He has an office and a coffee pot and is sure with enough gusto he’d be able to pour a decent latte. What he didn’t have is Poe. So he comes to the coffee shop every day, of course. He is in the middle of the third draft of a paper on Jupiter’s magnetosphere and trying to secure funding for his next year of research, two activities that stress him out, so what’s so bad about indulging in a little harmless flirting and a little distraction if it calms him down and helps him work? Besides, the coffee mugs at his office don’t magically refill themselves when they’re empty and there is definitely no way in hell anyone in the department will bring him water and a snack without him asking. Or with him asking for that matter. So, yeah, of course, Finn comes to the coffee shop every day.

* * *

"Whatcha got for me, today, professor?" Poe walks from behind the counter and tosses a cleaning rag at Finn. 

"I've told you many times, Dameron, I'm not a professor." 

"You work at a university and have you a bunch of expensive-sounding letters at the end of your name. That's a professor." 

Finn rolls his eyes and starts packing up his things. He's once again worked until the coffee shop closed and is the last person there. After the third or fourth time this happened he started telling Poe he could and should kick him out with everyone else - "sorry I know it's inconvenient I just get so wrapped up in the work that I lose track of time - and it took him until after the thirteenth or fourteenth time - "you sitting in the corner with your headphones in while I break down the bar is hardly an inconvenience" - for Finn to stop telling him. At which point they worked out a quasi-arrangement. Finn drafts and edits and revises until Poe is done with dishes, cleaning the machines, and all of the behind the counter work and then he explains the section of the paper he'd worked on that day to Poe while they sweep, mop, and wipe down the tables. It’s probably not as kind as just leaving when the shop actually closes, but Poe doesn’t seem to mind and is always excited to learn more about Finn's research...even if he can barely understand it. 

"Did you ever hear of the Cassini-Huygens mission to Saturn?" 

"You know I definitely did not."

"Oh man, it was incredible. I should bring you to the lab sometime to show you some of the images, they're amazing. Anyway, it was this twenty-year mission that really kind of revolutionized our understanding of Saturn's system. It ended back in 2017 but since then, results from the mission suggest its data may help us understand how Jupiter's magnetosphere responds to internal and external conditions. But in order to find that out, I have to-" 

This is the point at which Poe typically loses the plot, but he never stops Finn. Every now and then he has a question and Finn always answers patiently and with grace, no matter how dumb it is. Poe often wonders if he should know more about the science of space, but hell, he’s a pilot, not an astronaut. Well. Was a pilot...should have been a pilot. Could have been. It's what his mom wanted for him. And Leia. "You're so much like her, Poe." That was what she'd always said to him. He was supposed to be a pilot, not a barista. He was supposed to be honoring their legacy and making them proud. The two people who always believed in him. But instead, he'd let them down. He was always letting people down. This is also the point at which Poe typically gets lost in his own head. He loves listening to Finn talk about his work, the joy and passion shining through with every word, but it also makes him envious. Poe had passion once too and wants, so desperately, to get it back, but with every day that passes, the probability of that seems less and less. 

"Poe? Poe, hey. You alright?" Finn's voice is gentle as he places a hand on Poe's shoulder.

Poe flinches at the sudden touch, his eyes snapping back in focus. "What? Oh. Yeah...yeah, I'm fine." Poe looks down at the table and notices it’s the same one he'd started cleaning after throwing Finn a towel. How long has it been? Five minutes? Ten? 

"You sure? You seem kind of out of it. I can grab you some water? Maybe you should sit down for a bit?" 

"Finn, I'm fine. The cleaning fumes must have just gotten to me. Why are you worrying so much about me anyway? You don't think I can take care of myself?" Poe shoves Finn's shoulder playfully, defaulting to his usual deflection tactic of joking flirtation whenever it feels like the emotions are getting too close or too real. 

"You seem very self-sufficient, Poe," Finn says, a bit too seriously. 

Poe turns and walks to a table across the shop telling Finn to continue his astronomy lesson; however, the second the joy and passion return to his voice Poe’s lost again, Finn's voice replaced by self-doubt in stereo. Poe manages to listen well enough to provide a few well-timed "oh interesting"s and "oh no way”s to get them through the rest of the cleaning, but after they'd tell each other bye and Poe locks up the shop, there is only one thought playing on a loop in his mind.

"You were supposed to be someone."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose convinces Finn to have a little fun at his least favorite place.

Finn’s phone starts ringing the second he walks into his apartment, the custom ringtone giving the caller away immediately. Rose. He swipes right to accept the call, “Talk to me, Tico.” 

“Absolutely not. Just say hi.” 

“Hi, Rose.” 

Rose Tico has been Finn’s best friend ever since she schooled him in front of their entire Intro to Modern Cosmology class freshman year after he misstated the definition of the cosmological principle. Well, that wasn’t quite true. That had bruised his ego. They’ve been best friends since the following semester when they were paired together for a radio astronomy project and, after their fourth all-nighter, Rose looked at him and said: “We’re both tired and pissed off but the only reason this has even taken this long is because you’re still not over me embarrassing you on that first day, which is honestly pathetic and not even what I was trying to do, but regardless, you refuse to LISTEN TO ME so if you could just move on long enough for us to finish this project that’d be great.” She’s been calling him on his shit ever since. 

“Hi. How was your day?” 

“What do you want Rose?” Finn leans back against his front door. He can tell by Rose’s tone that he won’t be home for long. 

“Can’t a girl just call and check in with her best friend?” 

“Sure, A girl can. You? Not a chance.” 

“Fine. Drinks.” 

“And?” Finn’s voice is skeptical. 

“With Jannah.” 

“Okay…” This is too easy. 

“At Wise Acre.” There we go. 

“No. Rose. No. Absolutely not.” 

“Come on! You love that place.” 

“I hate that place.” 

“Fine! But Jannah likes that place and I like Jannah and YOU owe me.” 

“For what?!” 

“Something, I’m sure. I’ll pick you in ten. You’re the best, bye!” 

Rose hangs up the phone before Finn can protest so he starts getting ready. He only has enough time to change his shirt, brush his teeth, and throw on some cologne before Rose is outside laying on her horn. Finn locks his door and is halfway down the front steps before

“Bring me a shot!” 

Finn stops short and looks around to confirm Rose is, indeed, talking to him. “Rose. You’re driving.” 

“Not right now.”

“Rose…”

“The saying is drinking AND driving. I’m driving THEN driving. Do you hear the difference?” 

“Ro-” 

“SHOTS. SHOTS. SHOTS. SHOTS. SHOTS. SHO-” 

Finn carries two shots of tequila down the steps, passing one through the open passenger-side window before opening the door to climb in. This isn’t like him but it’ll be nice to not have to step into the worst bar in the city completely sober. It’s not that Wise Acre is bad, per se, it just isn’t a bar. Well, it isn’t just a bar. It’s a karaoke bar. Finn does not do karaoke. But Rose is his best friend and she’s right, he probably does owe her, so...shots. 

“L’chaim!” Rose shouts before throwing back her shot. Eleven years on and Finn still can’t believe the ease with which she takes shots. Finn’s attempt is more of a “two gulps and a wince” move, but he gets it down.

“Woo! Let’s get it!” Rose grabs the plastic cup out of Finn’s hand and throws it and her own cup in the mess that is her backseat and presses play on whatever custom playlist she’s undoubtedly made just for tonight before pulling away from the curb. Finn closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, the alcohol already warming his body. It’s going to be a long night.

* * *

When they arrive someone is on stage really committing to their performance of “Higher Love” and Finn already hates this. Rose spots Jannah and waves before turning to face Finn.    
“No space talk, kay?” 

“What?” 

“When you’re nervous you ramble about space.” 

“I do not!” 

“Yes. You do.” 

“Only when people ask! And a lot of people find my work interesting and you should support me because-”

“you’re very stressed out and this is your first solo-authored paper and blah blah blah I know, okay?” Rose rolls her eyes and makes a dismissive gesture with her hands. “Just. Please try and have fun? For me.” 

“You should be nicer to me.” 

“I know.” Rose smiles at Finn and heads towards Jannah’s table, Finn following behind. 

He can do this. He hates karaoke but he loves Rose so he can do this. Or least he can drink until he can 

“Rose, hi!” Jannah says, pulling rose in for a hug. “I’m so glad you decided to come. A lot of people are kind of up their own ass about this place.” 

“Oh, really?!” While they sit, Rose looks at Finn with wide “don’t be an asshole” eyes. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Right? I mean lighten the fuck up! It’s karaoke! No one cares if you’re bad just chill the fuck out and sing a song for christ’s sake. Anyway, sorry, I’m Jannah.” She extends her hand across the table. 

“Finn,” he says, grabbing Jannah’s hand in a firm shake. 

“Oh, believe me, I know. I’ve heard the stories. Nice to finally meet the face behind them.” 

If Jannah’s shit-eating grin is any indication Finn doesn’t want to know what stories Rose has shared. He hates karaoke but there are lots of things he decidedly does not hate, the majority of which Rose has witnessed. 

“Great. Loving this night already! Shots?” Finn asks and stands before he can get an answer.

* * *

While he waits for a bartender he watches Rose and Jannah. It seems so effortless, the way they are with each other. Rose’s loud and confident laugh. Jannah’s gentle arm touches. The way they instinctively lean closer to each other and let their eyes linger for a little too long. It’s open and honest. Raw desire. Finn’s never had that. He’s come close a handful of times but if he really thinks about it, his heart’s never been in it. Not like Rose and Jannah’s are. He’s never wanted anyone that clearly. It must be nice.

* * *

He walks back to the table, using all of his concentration to not spill the six shots in his hands.

“Alright, here we go. Shots all around! And there’s a, uh, tab open at the bar.” 

“Shots and an open bar? Rose, you can bring this one around any time.” 

Six shots quickly become nine and then twelve. Finn’s horrified and impressed to learn that Jannah has a tolerance as high as Rose’s and mentally kicks himself for thinking he could keep up with one, let alone both of them when he very clearly cannot. Which is how, he supposes, his name ends up on the sign-up sheet.

* * *

“Alright friends and enemies, let’s give a warm welcome to Finn!” The DJ yells into the microphone. Finn takes the stage and spots Rose and Jannah in the crowd completely losing their shit. 

He grabs the mic both to help steady himself and to get performance-ready. 

“This one’s for all the single people just looking to have a good time,” Finn says, shockingly coherent. The crowd gives him a few hoots and hollers but when those opening electronic keystrokes and strings blast through the speakers, the crowd loses all of its composure. 

“ _ HALF PAST TWELVE AND I’M WATCHING THE LATE SHOW IN MY FLAT ALL ALONE” _ Finn scream-sings into the microphone. _"HOW I HATE TO SPEND THE EVENING ON MY OWN."_ The crowd is giving him everything and Finn is immediately drunk with power. And just really drunk. The crowd is so loud he can barely hear himself, but when the pre-chorus starts to build he doesn’t even care. 

“GIMME! GIMME! GIMME A MAN AFTER MIDNIGHT, WON’T SOMEBODY HELP ME CHASE THE SHADOWS AWAYYYY.” He looks out into the sea of people and if he didn’t know better he’d think he was actually a star or someone important. Rose is cracking up trying to hold her phone steady enough to capture this moment on video, Jannah dancing next to her. Finn is lost in the joy and the energy and is shocked by how much fun he’s having. By the time the final pre-chorus rolls around he’s strutting through the crowd, making a mess of the mic cable: “ _ THERE’S NOT A SOUL OUT THERE. NO ONE TO HEAR MY PRAYERRRRR.”  _

Finn has the entire place on their feet for the final  _ “GIMME! GIMME! GIMME A MAN AFTER MIDNIGHT, TAKE ME THROUGH THE DARKNESS TO THE BREAK OF THE DAY!”  _

When the song ends, Finn is out of breath and can’t stop laughing and telling everyone in the crowd how much he loves them. Finn hates karaoke, or thought he did, and, in the harsh, sober reality of the morning, probably still will, but right now it’s just him and ABBA and his friends. And who could hate that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted an excuse to think about John Boyega singing ABBA.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Old places and old memories.

Poe rolls over onto his back wincing against the morning light as his eye blink open. It was another restless night, inevitable after what happened at the coffee shop. He never gets much sleep whenever his thoughts run down the rabbit hole of Leia’s memories. He grabs his phone off the nightstand. 6:45. Not the earliest he’s woken up on his day off, but not what he would have preferred. He scrolls through Twitter and Instagram, mindlessly retweeting and double-tapping for as long as he can before giving in and throwing the comforter off himself. He stands to stretch and rubs what little sleep there is out of his eyes with his shirt sleeve. He contemplates putting on a pair of sweatpants, too, just in case Rey is somehow already awake but decides against it. She’s seen Poe in much worse than boxer briefs and a stained t-shirt. 

Trudging into the kitchen, Poe grabs the coffee from the pantry and starts making a pot of the least impressive drip coffee money can buy. Rey is always begging Poe to make one of the fancy drinks he spends all day selling but Poe isn’t all that interested in spending four minutes on a pour-over when he’s not getting paid for it. The same eight dollar Mr. Coffee he’s been using since the academy works just fine. While the coffee brews, Poe’s phone dings and he groans loudly when he sees the notification. It’s his calendar.

Therapy. Two o’clock. 

Even though it’s on the same day and at the same time every week, it sneaks up on him every single time. Poe first started going about a year after Leia died. The first year without her, Poe didn’t really let himself think about it. The Monday after her funeral he’d quit the academy and that was kind of...it. That first year he didn’t let himself grieve or mourn and instead buried all of his emotions into whichever willing body would let him. He’d been reckless and impulsive and so, so angry. Eventually, Rey sat him down and told him to get his shit together. She knew he was devastated, Leia’s death hit everyone hard, but he couldn’t spend the rest of his life pretending it hadn’t happened. Poe booked his first appointment a week later. And he tried with that first therapist, he really did, but Poe quickly realized that, if the onus was on him to physically take himself to therapy, he wouldn’t go, so after six months they switched to teletherapy. That greatly increased the frequency with which he attended his appointments, but also helped him realize that the therapist wasn’t a great fit in the first place. So he found Dr. Holdo. 

She’s incredible and she calls Poe every Thursday at two o’clock. Rey usually makes herself scarce but it’s hard to tell how much of that is because of the appointment and how much of that is because of their fractured friendship. Those early days were difficult in a lot of ways and the only person Poe’d been as unkind to as himself was Rey. She, rightfully, stopped putting up with his shit a long time ago. She says they’re still friends, and they are, they still go out drinking and watch movies and vent about their shitty jobs, but there’s a detachment there now. It’s a constant chasing of the highs of their friendship while trying (and failing) to avoid the lows. And there are a lot of lows. Both of them are carrying some deep wounds and Poe hasn’t come to terms with how many of Rey’s he inflicted. 

Poe checks the time again, 7:30. He could go to the gym. Or the grocery store. Two things he knows he should do and two things more productive than what he knows he’ll do instead.

* * *

By the times he’s out of the shower and dressed, Rey’s awake. She’s sitting on the counter reading the paper, halfway through the pot of coffee he’d made earlier. When they first moved in together years back Poe’d made some comment about how “all the news's available online anyway” and long story short that’s why they get a daily delivery of the local paper on Poe’s dime.

“Morning,” Poe says as he pours himself a cup of coffee. 

“Hey.” Rey doesn’t look up from the paper. “How’d you sleep?” She knows the answer because this is a question she only asks when she knows he slept like shit. Poe’s answer is always the same. 

“Fine.” 

Rey looks up at him, then. Poe can feel her eyes boring into the back of his head. “Please just let it go. Don’t push it, Rey. Please,” he thinks. She must hear his silent plea because she doesn’t press the point and instead asks what his plans for the day are. 

“Eh, not much. Therapy later. The gym and grocery store before that.“

She knows he’s lying about the gym and groceries but she doesn’t press this point either. Poe wonders if she hates this, what their friendship has become, as much as he does. A part of him hopes she calls him on the lie. Make them address the tension between them, talk about how Poe's been on edge for years, and how he's taken it out on Rey and anyone that dares to get too close. But Rey doesn't say anything and neither does Poe.

* * *

“Not enough thrust.” 

“Way too high...need to use a forward slip.” 

Poe is exactly where he shouldn’t be. 

“You gotta correct for the drift if you’re gonna use a sideslip technique, come on.” 

He’s sitting on the edge of The Ridge watching the cadets land their test flights. It’s windy today so they’re practicing crosswind landings and Poe has something to say about every single one of them. He is technically trespassing since The Ridge is technically academy property but if no one ever found him when he’d hide out here as a student, he doubts they’ll find him now. The Ridge is exactly what it sounds like, a little cut out of land that just happens to provide the perfect overlook of the academy’s runways. To get to it, it’s a precarious climb across a cluster of hills and rocks but it’s the best view outside of the control tower. Poe found it after trying and failing to convince the tower operators to let him up there so he could spy on his classmates’ test flights and get an edge on the competition. He’d bring a notebook and take detailed notes of every test flight. What worked, what didn’t, what may work with a little tweaking, what would never work at all. He’d use the notes to write drills to run over and over in the simulator. 

He still comes to The Ridge but only on bad days. It’s pathetic and he knows it, but sometimes he just has to let himself wallow in self-pity. 

“Nope, too much thrust. God, how did they even pass the simulator tests if this is what their test landings look like?” 

Poe is actively making his mood worse and even though he won’t want to bring up his little trip to Dr. Holdo in a few hours he will because she’ll know he was here. She always does. 

“What do you think about the fact that you feel you can’t stop yourself from giving in to your bad mood? That you feel you don’t have the power or agency to resist it?” She’ll ask. Ugh. Poe is already dreading it. Poe watches the next flight coming in. The plane is too fast and too high and he can tell that the kid is panicking. 

“Come on you got this. Reduce the thrust, nose to the wind, there we go.” The plane starts coming in at an angle, whoever’s in the cabin with them has either taken control or is providing direction. “Alright now create the sideslip...toggle the..that’s it now back off the crab angle and realign the nose to center. Heh, nice work kid.” Poe exhales deeply as another wave of emotion hits him all over again. He shouldn’t be here. The Ridge never makes him feel better and never really has. Even as a student it was a place of stress and calculation, he’d never relaxed here. Sure it feels good to realize that, after all these years, his skills haven’t completely disappeared but it mostly just opens up the deep chasm of longing in his chest. To be a pilot again. To follow in his mother’s footsteps. To feel as proud of himself as Leia always was. His mind is running on overdrive, now, trying to remember the good times and once again chasing the optimism of nostalgia. Poe’s chest tightens and his breaths start getting shorter. “No, please, no,” he thinks. 

He stands up and backs away from the edge, stumbling as his breathing gets harder and harder. He doubles over like he got punched in the stomach and collapses on all fours. His breathing is taking all of his effort and he’s racked with full-body sobs. He grabs at his chest willing his heart to slow down knowing it’s a futile effort. There’s nothing left to do but hang on.

* * *

Poe walks through the door and sees Rey throwing a bunch of stuff into her backpack. “Hey, I’ll be out of here soon, I know it’s almost time. Just need to grab a few more things.” She doesn’t look up, which means she doesn’t see how disheveled Poe looks now. 

“No, it’s no problem; take your time. You know...you don’t  _ have  _ to leave, Rey. I can talk to her in my bedroom.” Poe sits on the couch and watches Rey sprint around the room grabbing her stuff. 

“No, really! I don’t mind. The walls are thin and I don’t-” She looks up at him now. “...I don’t want you to have to worry I...might...hear. Poe, are you okay?” 

“I’m fine. Just another panic attack at The Ridge! But, hey what can you do?” Poe kicks his feet up on the coffee table and makes an exaggerated shrug, trying to laugh it off. 

Rey’s already let it go once today, maybe she’ll do it again. 

“You can stop going there for starters.” 

Guess not, then. 

“Rey.” 

“What? It’s true! Stop going there! It doesn’t make you happy and it never has. It stresses you and freaks you out and you keep going because you’d rather just be miserable than do anything about it!” 

Poe stares at Rey with hard eyes. “You don’t understand. I-” 

“No, I DO understand, Poe. I do. And we can talk about it but you have to-” 

“That’s why I see Dr. Holdo. I don’t need to talk about these things with you. You don’t get it, Rey. I mean, look! Here I am on the couch, depressed, and you’re yelling at me.” 

Rey exhales sharply and shakes her head. She pulls her backpack over her shoulder while she walks to the door. 

“You’re not depressed, Poe, you’re just sad.” 

His phone rings the second the door clicks closed.

* * *

“And why do you think you keep going back there, Poe? It only seems to dredge up bad memories, but you act as if there’s some compulsion pulling you to that place.” 

Incredible that even when he can anticipate the question hours in advance he still doesn’t have an answer.

“It’s...I don’t know. It’s...I mean I know it’s bad for me, right, but at least I know what the bad will look like? I don’t know…” 

“The devil you know versus the devil you don’t.” 

“Yeah…” Poe sighs deeply. He’s pacing the living room, he can rarely sit still during therapy. Especially not when he’s holding back. 

“Yeah…” Poe says again. 

“What’s on your mind, right now, Poe?” Dr. Holdo’s voice is almost stereotypically calm. Poe would hate it if it didn’t work so well on him. 

“I had another one today.” Poe waits to give Dr. Holdo an opportunity to say something or cut him off, but she doesn’t take it. 

“I knew I’d been there too long and was risking it, but then. God, this plane started coming in hot. Probably a first or second year, just way too fast. And I started talking through the landing process and...I don’t know I just...felt it. It felt like I was in the cockpit. It all came back so naturally and I...missed it. I miss it. I really fucking do. For so long it’s felt like something I can never get back. It feels like that part of me died with her. But today...today it was like…”

“Proof that it hasn’t.” 

“Yeah…” 

“And how does that feel? To know you haven’t lost that part of yourself?” 

The feeling in Poe's chest widens along with the silence. 

“Good...scary. But good.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to all the people who are reading and commenting! I love this little mess of a fic so much so thanks for coming along for the ride! Some notes: I don't know how to fly a plane so if anything is wrong (and it probably is) blame Wikipedia. Also, shout out to my therapist for saying sage things I can repurpose for a fic and shout out to my last panic attack for providing writing fodder.


	4. Chapter 4

“Is it possible for a hangover to last two days?” Finn wonders. He’s lying on the floor of his office with the lights off, wishing the blinds on the window were blackout curtains instead. God, he’d had _so much_ to drink the other night. He’d completely wasted yesterday, spending the day switching between lying prone on the bathroom floor and hunched over the toilet. If he has any organs left, he hopes they’re the vital ones. At the very least he needs to draft the observations section of his paper, but after losing a day of work yesterday, finding time to review the observations from the first perijove pass would help immensely in getting him back on track. 

His phone beeps and he reaches a hand up to feel around for it on his desk nearly knocking it and his stapler onto his face. Rose. He knows what it is before he opens it because it’s the same message she’s sent him ten times over the past 36 hours - Finn, on stage, singing like he’s performing in _Mamma Mia!_ He watches it again, the volume and brightness on low, and a smile spreads across his face. He looks so _happy_. 

Yes he’s royally drunk and yes he’s feeding off the crowd but, god, he looks so uninhibited and free. He looks like himself. Or at least the type of person he wants to be. The type of person who can say "this is who I am. take it or leave it but it's what you're getting either way." He clicks out of the video.

**Friday, August 21, 2020**

I get it, Tico

ROSE TOPO TICO - 01:43 PM  
I’m just saying...that's a hell of a performance for someone who hates karaoke.

🙄

ROSE TOPO TICO  
😘 also, don’t forget that symposium we idiotically agreed to is next week  
  
  


Right. The symposium. Finn has very much not forgotten. Or, more accurately, he’s been thinking about it ever since his brain reminded him of it by jolting him awake in a cold sweat three mornings ago. But honestly, even if he wasn't behind on his drafting schedule, the symposium is low on the priority list. He and Rose had hastily agreed to present months ago—and were only asked because two other researchers had dropped out—and then promptly forgot about it, like they do with so many things that fall under “makes the university look good” but not under “gets the university to pay them more money.” 

Finn pulls himself upright and into his desk chair, opening his laptop. "Alright, Finn. You can do this." He stares at the blinking cursor hoping the words will manifest themselves. "You got this. It's just a paper. Just the culmination of two years worth of research and the only thing standing between you and unemployment next year. You got this." Finn's leg bounces restlessly under his desk as the seconds tick by. After ten minutes of no progress, he closes out the word document and opens up a research file from last year. The symposium is hosted by the IRC and that combined with how little he cares about it, at least means he can use some of his work from last year. Pulling together the presentation will be easy, which is probably why Finn agreed to it in the first place, but right now in his under-caffeinated, overly hungover state, it feels like the worst decision he's ever made. 

"Ughhhh. Come on." Finn puts his head down on his desk and reaches an arm out to grab his phone again. He peeks at the screen. Friday. Two o'clock. Did Poe work Fridays? Finn couldn't remember but surely he did? Finn felt certain he'd been there on at least one other Friday and Poe was there. Well, he thinks, it won't hurt to find out for sure.

* * *

Finn’s shoulders relax the second he walks through the door. The sounds of the espresso machine and smell of the roaster in the back calm him instantly and when he glances behind the counter and sees Poe, he wonders why he wasted half the day in his office. Finn claims his corner table before getting in line, scrolling through his phone as he waits. 

**Friday, August 21, 2020**

  
likely repurposing my black hole research. thoughts?

ROSE TOPO TICO - 02:15 PM  
likely stealing your black hole research.  
but yes..that study was incredible.  
dinner later?

  
Jannah’s busy.

ROSE TOPO TICO - 02:17 PM  
No!  
....yes...but I do miss you!

  
love you too

Finn slides his phone into his pocket as he approaches the register, scanning the menu as if he won’t get the same thing he always gets. Poe types the order into the register, raising an eyebrow at Finn. “It’s Friday.” 

“That it is.” Finn rocks back and forth on his heels, suddenly self-conscious but unsure as to why. 

“You’re never here on Fridays - lucky me.” Poe smiles wide. “Six bucks.” 

“Twelve with tip, wasn’t it?” Finn hands Poe his card, matching his smile.

Poe chuckles slightly, finishes the transaction, and returns Finn’s card. “Pick it up at the end of the bar.”

* * *

Finn manages to pull together a rough draft of his presentation. Rotational vs. non-rotational black holes are unlikely to be the most riveting of topics – and is far from the most interesting part of his research on the subject – but it’s enough to satisfy the department, which means it’s more than enough to satisfy him. He closes his laptop right as Poe locks the door of the shop.

“And what’s on my chore list today?” Finn asks. He stands to stretch and when his shirt rises ever so slightly above the hem of his jeans, Poe can’t help but notice.

“Uh.” Poe’s eyes snap to Finn’s. “You can start sweeping, I guess.” Poe pulls the bar towel off his shoulder and starts clearing and wiping down tables to distract himself. “Whatcha teaching me today?”

Finn walks behind the counter to grab the broom. “Black holes. Any interest?”

“I’m your star student, aren’t I, Professor?” It’s a cheeky response and Poe knows it.

“Again. Not a professor.”

Finn ignores it.

“So, the basic concept of black hole formation is just the gravitational collapse of a star, yeah? A massive star, sure, but still. Well with spherical symmetric collapses…” And once again Finn is off, clearly in his element. Talking about his work is where Finn shines; it’s obvious that he loves what he does and loves getting to talk about it. He’s just about to go into the structure of Kerr black holes when his phone rings that same familiar tone.

“Sorry, do you mind?”

“’Course not – go head.” Poe turns and walks back behind the counter, trying to give Finn what little privacy he can.

Finn pulls his phone out of his pocket and swipes up on what he realizes, a second too late, is a video chat.

“I want Dion’s.” Rose is walking down the steps of the science building. She’s on campus, still, evidently finding her office a much more conducive work environment than Finn’s was.

“Surely this could have been a text message.”

“Yes, but then you wouldn’t get to see my shining face.” Rose turns her head from side to side, like a model trying to find her angles.

Finn scoffs and shakes his head, “Dion’s works for me. But only if we can add green chile this time.”

“Oh, hell yes. You done with work? I’m just getting to my – wait. Where are you?” Rose squints and moves the phone closer to her face as if that will magically reveal Finn’s location.

“Oh…um…” Finn looks around the coffee shop, unsure of why he’s stalling. “I’m at that coffee shop? That one off Union?”

“Hm. Never been; coffee any good?”

Before he can stop himself, Finn, a bit too earnestly says, “Yeah…but I mostly come for the service.”

Rose clocks it immediately.

“Hold on,” her eyes narrow, “who’s with you?”

“What? No one! Okay, that’s not…just…a friend, okay?” Finn is suddenly nervous (why is he nervous?) and starts turning back and forth, looking for anything that can help him get out of…whatever this situation is.

“A friend, you say?” Finn can see where this is going and knows it’s only a matter of time before Rose says something he won’t want to explain – she’s already off to the races.

“Dion’s in twenty? GREAT, BYE ROSE.” Finn says a bit louder than necessary. Before he can hang up, he hears her shout “invite them to the symposium!” And Finn decides immediately that that is something he absolutely will not be doing. Sure, Poe always asks about his work while they close, but a whole conference worth of information? Presented by people are mostly will not be him? Finn is certain that Poe would rather die than attend something like that and besides going to conferences and weird work events is what someone does for their friend. And they’re not friends…are they? Finn doesn’t want to dwell on it.

“She sounds fun.” Poe’s voice pulls Finn from his thoughts. He’s still behind the counter, breaking down the rest of the bar.

“Uh, yeah. She is.” Finn smiles to himself. “She’s wild. And brilliant. You’d like her I think.”

“Yeah…I’m sure I would.” Poe’s eyes meet Finn’s and hold him there for a few seconds too long. “But, uh, you better get going. Dion’s, yeah?”

Finn shakes his head slightly, looking around for his things. “Uh. Yeah. Right. You sure I can’t...”

“No, no. There’s not much left to do. Plus, I open tomorrow so if I skimp on the details, I’m only screwing myself. Go.” Poe smiles in that genuine, earnest way always does.

“Thanks. I’ll see you, later, yeah?” Finn says, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

“You know where to find me.”

  
  



	5. Chapter 5

When Finn gets to Dion’s Rose is already there waiting on the bench outside, typing furiously on her phone. He’s not surprised Rose chose here; she always does when she’s stressed out. They’ve been coming here since sophomore year when one of Rose’s professors, Dr. Abrams, decided to make her life hell. She was the smartest person in the class by a mile, but was constantly side-lined and ignored to appease the men in the room. Rose was keyed up that entire semester and one day, after a particularly antagonistic class, Finn took her to Dion’s. He knew Rose was stressed but also knew she’d never admit to it, so he brought her to here. Rose had used it as her distress signal ever since - which meant today’s visit was likely Finn’s clue that Rose was much more worried about the conference than she was letting on. 

“Hey!”

Rose jumps. “Oh! Hey, hi! Sorry.” She stands and pulls Finn in for a hug, shoving her phone in her bag. 

“The presentation?” Finn always lets Rose know the door is open if she wants to talk about it. Sometimes she takes him up on it, sometimes she doesn’t. 

“Yeah. But it’ll be okay. It’s one conference that’s not even that important! Plus, _we’re_ the ones doing the favor here! I just have to panic about it for a bit, ya know?” 

“I know, but you'll pull it out like you always. Now come on, the idea of a drink makes me want to hurl, but I know your liver is more than up for it.” Finn pulls the restaurant door open and gestures for Rose to go first.

“You think after all these years you’d finally be able to keep up with me.” Rose shakes her head in mock disappointment.

“Tico, Hemingway couldn’t keep up with you.”

* * *

“But anyway…” Rose puts her elbows on the table so she can rest her chin in her hands. Guess we're done with her portion of the evening. “Tell me about your friend.” 

Finn sighs and smiles at Rose, shaking his head back and forth. “There’s nothing to tell.” 

“Oh come on! You were skittish! The last time I saw you skittish was when you got to operate the telescope at the Tuanul Planetarium freshman year. What’s their name?” 

“I’m serious! There’s nothing to tell. He's...Poe and I are just -” A waiter brings their pizza by and Finn sits back in his chair self-consciously, casting a sideways glance at the server and rubbing his hands on his thighs. “Thanks,” Finn gives the waiter a curt smile as they walk away. “Uh,” he clears his throat, “friends. We’re just friends.” 

“Uh-huh.” Rose narrows her eyes at Finn and grabs a slice of pizza. “Fuck! That’s hot.”

“Be careful, it’s hot," he says with a smirk. 

“The pizza or your friend?” Finn should know by now that he can never one up Rose; he’s quick but she’s always quicker. 

“Just eat your food.”

Rose laughs and the rest of their dinner continues as so many dinners prior - laughs and jokes eventually give way to vulnerability and Rose reveals whatever stress brought them to Dion’s in the first place, in this case, the symposium, and Finn talks her through it. Finn tells her more about Poe – staying late, the science lessons, the looks and comments that feel a lot like flirting. They talk too much and sit too long and tip way more as a result. This far into their friendship, there’s an ease and earnestness to it, something that Finn doesn’t have with anyone else. He was too young to remember whatever family he did have before he was thrown into foster care and everything after that...well...those are memories he'd rather forget. Rose knows some of the details, of course, but she’s never pushed or pressured him for more. However small Finn’s family may be, Rose is it.

They’re walking out of the restaurant when Rose mentions it again. “I was being serious before. About the symposium? You should invite Poe.”

“I don’t know…” Finn runs a hand over his neck.

“Why not? You obviously like him.”

“Rose, I promise we’re just–“

“Friends. Yeah, yeah. I know. But I’m just saying…Jannah’s never offered to help me finish work.”

“Yeah…” Finn says with a sigh.

* * *

“So, by deriving the Kerr metric on black holes, we’ve been able to find evidence of the existence of axisymmetric black holes, which were previously thought to only exist theoretically. This has allowed us to better assess whether a black hole is co-rotating or counter-rotating, thus providing a deeper understanding of gravitational collapse. Thank you.” 

The audience applauds and Finn exhales a sigh of relief as he walks down the stage steps. Now that the symposium’s done, he can direct one hundred percent of his energy to his paper. He managed to recover some lost ground over the past week, but he won’t be able to relax until he knows the next year is secure. 

“Excellent work as always.” Finn turns towards the voice coming from over his shoulder. 

“Uh, thank you, Dr. Erso. Don’t have many opportunities to discuss my work so this is a pleasure, truly.” This is the part Finn hates most, the schmoozing. Lots of handshaking and forced smiles at department heads. He and Dr. Erso start walking towards the door, Finn half listening, when he sees a shadow of someone (something?) in the back corner of the room.

* * *

Poe’s leaning against the wall by the back of the lecture hall watching Finn work the room. Coworkers, deans, and scientists hanging on his every word. Poe smiles to himself. Finn looks _good._ Poe lets his eyes linger, run the length of Finn’s body. He’s in dress pants and a fitted button down – nothing fancy, but far fancier than anything Poe’s seen him in before, so Poe takes his fill. Finn’s still schmoozing as he approaches the door. “Yes, of course, Cassian. We’ll get lunch. I’ll be in touch.” Poe laughs quietly at Finn’s work voice. When "Cassian" walks out ahead of Finn, Poe sees Finn's shoulders instantly relax. 

“Sounds mighty professorial for someone who’s not a professor.”

Finn turns on his feels to face Poe. He’s still leaning against the wall and this time it’s Finn’s turn to look.

“Most people just say hi.”

“Given that you weren’t expecting me, shouldn’t I say surprise?”

The lecture hall’s nowhere near empty, but it feels like they’re the only two in the room. Heat crawls up Finn’s neck as he takes Poe in. He’s right, it is a surprise that he’s here.

“How’d you even know about this?”

“The coffeeshop the other night? I heard, Rose, right? Mention something before she hung up and turns out it’s not hard to find the schedule for a conference held by the largest research university in the state!” A little of the confidence falls out Poe’s voice as he realizes how weird this might be, just showing up unannounced to an event he wasn’t invited to and barely heard about. But fortunately, Finn just smiles at him.

“Why’d you come?”

Poe leans into the vulnerability a bit more. “I like seeing you do all this…” his gestures to the room, “science stuff. You look good when you’re in your element.”

“A competency kink’s a bit obvious, isn’t it, Dameron?”

Poe let’s out a bark of a laugh – usually, it was him, not Finn, with the cheeky one-liners.

They smile at each other and Finn’s about to speak again, but someone else taps him on the shoulder. More congratulations and polite conversation and promises of coffee. Poe just watches.

“Thank you. Yes, coffee soon, absolutely.” Finn turns back to Poe who’s staring in return. “You okay?”

“Huh?” Poe snaps back to reality. “Oh, yeah. Hey, you wanna grab some food? Or do you have something else to- “

“No. Food sounds great.”

They turn heel and walk out of the door and right into Rose.

“Well hellooo,” she singsongs. “Who’s this?” She looks back and forth between the two of them wearing her signature shit-eating grin.

“Uh, Rose. This is Poe. Poe, Rose.”

Rose extends her hand. “Poe, you say! So lovely to meet your FRIEND. Poe.” Finn narrows his eyes at her and Poe just looks confused.

“Yeah…you too,” he says, shaking her hand in return.

The three of them stand in silence for a few seconds, Rose loving every awkward moment of it.

“Well! We were just going to get something to eat, shame you can’t come, Rose.”

“Yes, Finn, it is a shame but picking up on all your subtle hints has my schedule jammed packed!” She steps to the side and turns to walk backwards into the lecture hall. “Have fuuuun.”

The two of them start walking down the hall again. 

“So. That was Rose?”

“That was Rose.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for continuing to read this little story of mine and for all of your extremely nice comments! any science mistakes are 100% mine; I'm a writer for a reason, bbys.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "They sit in silence for a few seconds. This feels different for some reason. They’d spent countless hours together closing up the shop but now...now the stakes felt higher and everything felt more visible."
> 
> Some food, some flirting, some tender friend moments.

They decide to walk to the restaurant, which helps Poe relax; he doesn’t think he could handle the intensity of a car ride right now. There’s less pressure outside, open-air, no confined spaces. Easy.

“How much of the presentation did you catch?”

“All of it. It was really fascinating, don’t know how much of it I understood but…”

“Months of listening to me ramble and you still don’t know the basics of gravitational pull or corotational physics.“

“Maybe I need more lessons. Or a better teacher.” Another thing about the open air, Poe’s bolder. Dr. Holdo calls it a defense mechanism. He calls it charm.

Finn side-eyes him, “Or maybe you just need to listen better.” They reach the door of the restaurant, a kind of culty, free love-esque place called Wild Fable, and Poe holds it open. “After you, professor.” 

Finn pauses in the doorway, “You're never going to stop calling me that are you?” 

“Nope.”

* * *

They grab two seats at the bar and order drinks - the cheapest beer they serve for Poe and a vodka tonic for Finn. Finn forces his shoulders to relax and takes a sip of his drink. 

“Thanks for coming today. That was...nice. Course it would have been nicer if you’d told me…” 

“What can I say? I like surprises.” Poe smiles at Finn, who breaks eye contact. They sit in silence for a few seconds. This feels different for some reason. They’d spent countless hours together closing up the shop but now...now the stakes feel higher and everything feels more visible. 

“So...did you always want to be an astrophysicist?” Poe immediately shakes his head and takes another drink.

Finn lets out a small laugh and looks sideways at Poe. “We’re doing the small talk thing now?” 

“No, we don’t have to. I’m, look-” 

“No, no, it’s fine! Small talk. Let’s do it. Let’s see...the weather’s nice today, huh?” 

Poe laughs and places his hand on top of Finn’s (who ignores how it makes his heart race). “Please stop, okay? We don’t have to do small talk. I’m just..let’s just talk. Okay? Like friends?” He removes his hand— it’s so casual like he wasn’t even aware he’d done it in the first place—and grabs his beer. 

“Yeah. Like friends.” Finn starts laughing. Poe looks at him. “Oookay, I have clearly missed out on some joke.” 

Finn thumbs the stir stick in his drink and smiles, first to himself and then up at Poe. “Nah, sorry. I’m just thinking of...the first time Rose and I had the "getting to know you" friend hang she insisted we take shots and then she insisted we go shot for shot. I lost, though, even from the brief time you've met her you probably guessed that bit..but we’d known each other for a while at that point, you know from school and stuff, but, god. I really hadn’t known what I was getting with her... Anyway, please do not make me do shots.” 

Poe smiles back. “I will not make you do shots. So, Rose, she’s your-” 

“My best friend, yeah. My family. She’s really kind of all I have. My, uh, parents weren’t really in the picture...foster care and all that...it’s...uh…” He sighs. “So, anyway, we met in college and she was just this absolute spitfire. And I wanted to dislike her, and at first, I did. Trust me. I mean at first, we hated each other, but then, I don’t know, suddenly it was just like I couldn’t imagine my life without her, you know? I don't even know where it came from, it was just like one day I looked up and I was like "OH." She's the best I've got, truly. I wouldn't change anything about her. I love her.” 

They both smile to themselves but a little bit of the light goes out of Poe’s eyes. He’s thinking about Rey. He misses her though it feels ridiculous to miss someone you live with. They haven’t really talked since his panic attack and they definitely haven’t talked about the panic attack. He misses her, deeply. He misses his family. The way Finn talks about Rose..that’s how he used to talk about Rey. How he wants to talk about her again. But it feels impossible. 

“Hey.” It’s Finn’s turn to touch, now, gently grabbing Poe’s shoulder. “You okay?” 

Poe shakes his head and looks at Finn then this drink then around the restaurant. “Uh, yeah. Sorry. I was just...uh. Nothing. Go ahead.” 

“You sure? You kinda went away for a second there.” 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Promise.”

Finn gives his shoulder a small squeeze before letting go. “If you say so, Dameron.”

Poe downs the rest of his beer and flags down the bartender. “Hey, can I get another beer, and then we’ll do two orders of fries, the veggie burger, and the, uh, Reuben, please. Thank you.” 

“You know I usually wait until the third date to order for someone.” 

“That why you can never get a fourth?” 

“Ouch!” Finn clutches at his chest. “You come to my presentation and then you wound me?” 

“Charm and disarm, my friend. Besides, we both know the burger and the Reuben are the best things on this menu but my all means,” the bartender brings Poe’s beer, “excuse me, my friend here’s had his pride damaged by my remarkable chivalry and would like to place his own food order.” 

“I..that’s not…” Finn looks apologetically at the bartender, holding his hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry.” 

“No problem, man, what can I get you?” 

Poe laughs into his beer and Finn narrows his eyes at him before turning back to the bartender sheepishly. “Can I just do an order of fries and, the uh, the Reuben...please.” 

Poe snorts as the bartender walks away. “You proud of that one, Dameron? Yeah? Feel good?” 

“Yeah, it does.” 

“Fine, but you’re paying.” 

“With the way you tip me, technically,  _ you’re  _ paying.” 

They smile at each other again, the energy between them palpable in the silence.

“So, what’s next?” Poe starts again. “The big presentation is done and, by the looks of it, you successfully charmed the entire university; does that mean I’m back to doing all my own work?” 

“Lucky for you I’ve still got to charm the board into funding me for the next year. So I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.” 

“Oh, yeah, that’s right, the paper. You told me about that. Jupiter’s...magnetosphere, right?” 

“That’s the one. Defense is next month and right now the paper is, to put it lightly, a fucking mess. All the work’s there and I know my research is solid but, god, it’s killing me. And don't say 'I'm sure you'll be fine' because I probably will be fine, but, if I don't get this funding...fuck. Basically, there's no plan B if I don't get it." 

"I know a coffee shop that's hiring. The main guy can never close by himself so you'd probably have to pick up the slack but the pay's decent and the customers don't mind if you flirt with them." 

This time Finn can't meet Poe's eyes. Instead, he downs what's left of his watered-down drink. It's not like the flirtation between them is one-sided, or even subtle, but to put a name to it so directly...well this time it doesn't feel like a joke. 

The waiter brings their food by and refreshes Finn's drink. The rest of the meal passes easily and comfortably and it feels like every other night at the coffee shop, Poe wiping down the espresso machine while Finn sweeps the floor. Jokes, laughter, and, yes, more flirting. At one point, after a particularly bold move on the part of Poe, Finn's conversation with Rose starts playing on a loop in his head. "Why not? You obviously like him." He pushes the thought from his head. They have a few more drinks, but no shots, and when the waiter brings the bill, Poe pays and makes a point of saying he's tipping better than Finn does. "I'm leading by example." 

"And I'm paying an extra thirty dollars a week for a few cups of coffee."

"Yes, but I'm worth it." 

"Yeah, yeah. But thank you. I'll be sure to follow your illustrious example next time I come in."

* * *

They walk out of the restaurant and stand on the sidewalk, Poe with his hands in his pockets, Finn rocking back and forth on his heels. The pressure's back and with it, the nerves.

"Well..thanks again for coming and...for the food, but I should probably get back to work." 

"Yeah, yeah, sure. This was fun. Wanted to prove I could see you without forcing you into manual labor." 

"You're not forcing me, Poe. We're friends. And Rose and I learned early on to keep our research separate. I need you and, based on how I've seen you mop a floor, you need me." 

"Okay." Poe smiles again, eyes soft. He's really gotta stop doing that, Finn thinks. 

"Okay." 

This silence hangs there for a bit, the air around them increasingly charged. Before he can overthink it or talk himself out of it, Poe pulls Finn for a hug. Finn hesitates ever so slightly before his arms wrap around Poe. They pull each other closer, tighter, and hold each other for probably longer than the first hug between friends should be. But neither of them say anything about it, instead opting to lean into the feeling. After a few seconds, that feel like lifetimes, they pull away. 

"So I'll see you soon?" 

"Yeah, for sure. I'll be in the shop." 

"Cool." 

"Cool." 

They smile at each other one last time. 

"I'm going to head back," Finn points a thumb over his shoulder. 

"Yeah, cool. I took the train so I'm that way," Poe says, pointing in the opposite direction. 

"Alright..well...see ya 'round." 

"See ya 'round." 

They both about-face and head in opposite directions. They're about halfway down their respective blocks when Finn turns back around and shouts, "Hey, Dameron!" 

Poe stops and turns. 

"To answer your question, no, I didn't always want to be an astrophysicist. When I was seven I wanted to be a Power Ranger." Before Poe can respond, Finn starts walking down the street again and Poe just watches him go. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooooo. Wow this chapter was a STRUGGLE to write and I really had to wrench it out of me, hence the lengthy update time. But I'm back and thank you so so so much to everyone who is along for the ride and leaving the nicest comments and kudos. This chapter doesn't look exactly how I envisioned it at the outset but I hope it still delivers and, like a brilliant friend recently told me, "you created something that wasn't there before and that's good." take care of yourselves, friends, and see ya soon. (P.s. there are so many ellipses in this chapter I am so sorry I love them so much.)
> 
> xx


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things feel normal between Poe and Rey. Just for a moment. Just for a bit.

Poe unlocks the door to his apartment but he freezes with his hand on the knob. Rey’s car is out front so she’s home and, while there’s a chance she is in her room, it’s no guarantee. With a heavy sigh, he pushes the door open and walks into the living room. Rey is on the couch reading. She doesn’t say anything at first and the air in the room immediately grows heavier. 

“Uh, hey.” Poe tries and fails to make his voice chipper. He’s resentful, not rightfully so, of this situation. He was riding such a high after leaving Finn and now, well now he has to deal with this. He knows it’s only because of their fight (Poe’s words, not Rey’s) that they’re cold to each other. Well...colder than usual. A fight always turns the air in the apartment from 'slightly chilly' to 'downright icy'. 

"Hi." Rey doesn't look up from her book. 

"How...was work?" Poe is still standing by the door, clenching and unclenching his fists. He knows, if they're going to do this, he should sit down but it's like his feet are bolted in place. 

Rey looks at him and he shrinks. "Fine." 

They stare at each other, once again relying on the silent communication they've perfected over the years. Will one of them push it today? Force the point? 

"What about you? I was wondering where you went this morning."

So, no, not today, then. 

"Oh yeah. My, uh, my…" Poe doesn't want to open this particular door today, but he doesn't see an emergency exit either. Plus, he doesn't want to lie to Rey, not any more than he already has. More than he already does. He takes a deep breath to steel himself. Okay, so we're doing this.

"My friend had a presentation today? At the university? I wanted to support him." 

"Oh!" The shock in Rey's voice is a little  _ too  _ shocked , and Poe's ego takes a slight hit. "A...friend? You made...a friend." 

Poe's feet finally dislodge themselves and he crosses the living room to sit down. "Well, you don't have to sound so surprised!"

"Frankly, it's surprising!" Rey says with a laugh. "When was the last time you hung out with someone that wasn't me?" 

Poe takes a second to think and then snaps his fingers, "Zorri! We went to that movie a few months ago!" 

"First of all, it was a concert, and second of all Zorri invited  _ me  _ and you only came because she had an extra ticket and, quote, 'the bar at the Roxy is the best one in town.'

"Still counts!" 

The two of them laugh and it feels easy. Like it used to. Like before. And Poe misses it desperately. He considers saying fuck it  and telling Rey he's sorry, that he'll fix it, that he  _ wants  _ to fix it. Fix them. But by the time he can steal himself for it, the laughter between them dies and the silence chokes out the lightness that was just in the air. They look at each other again, just two friends pleading for the other to say it first. 

"Well…I didn't mean to interrupt-" Poe gestures to the book that now sat face down on the couch.

"Oh! Yeah... I, uh," Rey picks it up awkwardly, "it's…" She clears her throat and starts her sentence again. "Hey, why can't we talk any-"

But before she can finish she hears the sound of Poe’s bedroom door clicking closed and he's gone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a short little bridge of a chapter; something longer will be up soon! as ever, thank you all so so so much for reading, commenting, & being here with me.


	8. Chapter 8

Poe flattens his back against the door and breathes deeply. Rey wasn’t scheduled at the shop today and, even though she swore, like always, that she is more than capable of killing an hour or so, Poe insisted she stay, that he could have therapy in his room. “It’s the least I can do,” he’d said. “I feel guilty about how I’ve changed us,” he’d meant. He takes another breath and slides down the door, resting his forearms on his knees when he sits. “Get it together, Poe.” He takes a few more deep breaths, that last of which turns into a groan as he fishes his now ringing phone out of his pocket.

“Hi, Dr. Holdo.” His voice is so monotone you can hear the eye roll. 

“You know, Poe, it’s quite touching how excited you always are to hear from me.” 

That gets a small laugh out of him. “I’m sorry, it’s just...been a week.” 

“Never apologize for being honest. Tell me about your week.” 

He groans again and bangs his head against his door. “Just. Rey. We still haven’t talked about the day I had my panic attack, the day she...well she didn’t blow up on me, but it felt that way, you know? And it’s like she knows I’m hurting, right? And she knew I felt like shit that day so why couldn’t she just let it go?” 

“From everything you’ve told me, Poe, it sounds like she has. It sounds like she lets a lot go for you.” 

“Yeah…I just. I guess it’s just stupid, right? Either make a choice, either be mad at me and call me out on my shit or don’t and let it all slide. Why do both? Just be angry. Just let yourself be angry.” 

“Is that advice for you or her?” 

“What? I..come on you know what I mean.” 

There’s silence between them and Poe’s heartbeat thunders in his chest. He’s deflecting, that much is obvious, which is a dumb tactic that never goes in his favor. Which is why he’s not surprised, but by no means less anxious, when Dr. Holdo asks

“Who are you really mad at, Poe?”

The answer is as obvious as his deflection. 

He takes another deep breath and hangs his head. He’s still sitting on the floor, back to the door, and he tries to ignore the part of his brain telling him he looks pathetic like this. “Why can’t I just talk to her? It’s Rey. My best friend Rey. Rey who knows everything about me. Rey who was there for me when Leia..” The word evaporates on his tongue. “She’s my family. Really, all I have left, and I-” That bit stops him. He’d never spoken of Rey like this. Where had he heard that before? 

Oh right. Finn. 

He tries to keep going but the words get lost. In thoughts of Rey and thoughts of Finn and in the ways he deeply and desperately needs them both.

“Poe?” Dr. Holdo’s voice is gentle as if Poe’s a stray kitten she could scare away. 

“Yeah?” He barely stops his voice from breaking. 

“I want to try something if you’re feeling open to it.” 

“...Okay..” 

“I’ll take your audible skepticism as proof of excitement. Now, when I worked with children, this is something I had them do to help them crystallize and clarify their emotions and I-”

“And you think I need the same therapeutic approach as an eight-year-old?” 

“Most of them were six, actually.” The smile in her voice is enough to get a laugh out of Poe and get his shoulders to relax for the first time in what feels like days. 

“Alright, alright, I’ll bite. Hit me.” 

“Can you grab a pen and paper for me? We’re going to make a feelings tree.” 

“Is it too late to change my mind?” 

“Of course not, but you will be giving up on something an eight-year-old can do.” 

“I thought you said they were six?” A few seconds pass, just enough for the realization to crest the horizon. “Okay, I get it. Hold on.” Poe pushes himself off the ground and walks to his bedside table. He puts the phone on speaker and sets it down so he can rifle through the shockingly messy drawer, eventually finding a Sharpie and some scrap paper. He grabs the book he’s been pretending to read for three months off the table and sits cross-legged on his bed. “Okay, I’m ready,” he says with a sigh. 

“So the purpose of this exercise is to help us visualize our emotions and get to the root cause of them. We tend to have a very narrow few of what our feelings are or even can be and we also tend to mistake the more readily felt emotions, like anger, for example, as our primary emotion when they very rarely are.” 

“So, what? I’m supposed to just...draw a tree..and write ‘sad’ on it? Isn’t this something that would be better suited for therapy homework?” 

“If I didn’t want you to actually do it, then yes, but I’ve been doing this whole thing for a while now so just trust me, here.” 

Poe smiles and acquiesces, listening to Dr. Holdo guide him through this exercise. He puts more work into the tree portion than is probably necessary but if he's doing this, he's doing it right. Dr. Holdo mostly sits in silence as Poe fills out the branches with various emotions. "Anger" branches off from "frustration." "Grief" extending out of "isolated." Selfish. Exhausted. Confused. Eager. Unsure. Unaware. Complacent. He keeps writing, surprised at how much he feels —  at how much he's  _ allowing _ himself to feel —  when Dr. Holdo's feather-light voice comes through the speaker. 

"Are you noticing any patterns or maybe identifying primary and secondary emotions?" 

"Uh, yeah." He rakes a hand through his hair, suddenly self-conscious. Logically he knew they'd still have to talk about the emotions, but still. "Yeah. Like...well like...at first I had anger by itself, but that didn't feel right so then crossed it out and wrote it off of frustration but...I...don't know if that's right either." He stares at the page and his shoulders sink a little. "I thought this was supposed to be helpful?" 

"Are there any emotions that are more deeply rooted than the others? Any emotions that make up the base of the tree?" 

"Yeah, fear." 

Oh.

* * *

Poe’s exhausted when he hangs up with Dr. Holdo and his mind keeps replaying that word on a loop. Fear.  _ Fear.  _ Poe knew he was scared of some things, I mean, hell, everyone is but turns out Poe is scared of a lot of things. Maybe..everything. Definitely of Rey. Or rather getting close to Rey again. And probably of...no. He won't let himself go down that road. He shakes any lingering therapy thoughts from his head and opens his door. He walks into the kitchen and there’s Rey, at the sink, getting a glass of water. Poe crosses to the fridge and, just as his hand grabs the handle before his brain can fully register the words forming in his mouth, he turns to Rey and says “Do you wanna get drunk?”

* * *

There are beer bottles everywhere and the coffee table is a disaster. A handful of snack mix sits in a river of vodka and a half-full tequila bottle is standing precariously close to the edge. Laughter fills their small apartment and Rey is doubled over, her face pressed into the rug that served as their couch when they first moved in and couldn’t afford a sofa yet. This version of them - drunk and near hysterically happy - this isn’t what scares Poe. This is the easy version. The version they’ve defaulted to so many times since Leia died. 

“Okay, stop! I’m trying to finish my story!!” Rey pulls herself off the ground, swiping a hand underneath her eyes to clear the tears of joy that gather there. “So. Like I was saying,” each world punctuated with a laugh, “he comes into the shop and he’s yelling about his car battery and I’m confused because he drove the car to the shop, right? So I ask him if he jumped his car to get here and how many times has he jumped it in the past week. And he says “of course I didn’t jump my car! Why would I do that? My car is starting just fine. My question is about the battery!” and I’m LOSING MY MIND because this man just so clearly does not understand what a car is and I’m genuinely scared to let him back behind the wheel so I-” 

“So you told him that he needed a new timing belt even though that wasn’t true?” Poe grabs the bottle of tequila and takes a shot. 

“I was doing the greater good a favor!! You’re not listening!!” Rey dissolves into another fit of laughter and Poe dies too. God, they’re SO DRUNK. Drunker than they were a few weeks ago and that time Poe was sure his liver was going to voluntarily evict itself. 

“I just feel like you’re leaving out multiple pieces of this story.” 

“Oh well excuuuuse me!” Rey grabs the bottle out of Poe’s hand and gestures wildly with it. “I didn’t realize I was talking to the  _ premier  _ Binks Auto Body apprentice.” 

“That’s not your job title.” 

“I’m an apprentice! Why can’t I be the premier one??” Rey takes a long sip of tequila and Poe’s lips pull into a smile. He loves Rey, he really does. Holdo was right. She lets a lot of shit slide and she meets him where he is every time without fail. Even when it’s not fair to her. She sets the bottle down and Poe doesn’t pull his gaze away fast enough. 

“What?” She raises an eyebrow at him. 

“Nothing, I just...really appreciate you doing this with me tonight.”

“Dude. Getting drunk on cheap liquor and eating generic chex mix is hardly a difficult ask, but you’re welcome.” They smile at each other and the silence creeps in and surrounds them. The room is a mess. Poe could start cleaning and put a stop to what he feels coming, what he knows is on the horizon. But instead, he waits. Holds Rey’s gaze until she finally asks. “Tell me about your friend.” 

It feels like all of the alcohol in Poe’s body instantly metabolizes. 

“Uh..” Poe grabs a shot glass off the table and idles it between his hands. He can do this. “Um..his name’s...Finn.” His eyes are focused downward, but he knows Rey is looking at him. He wants to meet her gaze but he can’t; the second he sees the earnestness with which she’s looking at him he’ll lose his resolve. “We met a few months ago. At the shop.” 

“What’s he do?” Rey’s smile is evident in her voice. 

“He’s an...astrophysicist. Ph.D. and everything.” 

“Oh, so he’s way too smart for you?” 

“Yeah,” there’s no amusement in his voice. “I don’t even know why he-” 

“Poe.” Rey’s voice is serious enough to get Poe to look — he lifts his eyes, but doesn’t raise his head. 

“I’m kidding. Of course, he knows you’re brilliant.” 

He tries for a smile but his mouth doesn’t quite make it there. It’s been years since Poe has felt brilliant or even capable. The idea that Finn thinks of him that way, that he even could, is too much. He shakes his head. “I don’t think so.”

Poe inhales deeply. He should do it now. They’re drunk, so it’s not ideal, but if he doesn’t do it now he’s afraid that, in the harsh reality of the morning (and the harsh reality of what will certainly be a wicked hangover), it’ll be another week before he gets up the courage. 

“Hey, uh, I’m sorry. About the past few weeks. I know I’ve been kind of...off, lately. More than normal, I mean.” 

“You don’t have to apologize for being sad, Poe. I shouldn’t have snapped at you though. I’m sorry, too.” 

They smile at each other again and a little bit of the near-constant tension between them evaporates. It’s only one apology in a line of many that need to be made, but it’s a start. The alcohol makes it easier, of course, and yeah, sure, it was short, but this is the first real conversation they’ve had in months, drunk or not. They each make a silent plea that this feeling holds and they don’t wake up and resume stilted conversations had while walking on eggshells. But that’s another reality that they’ll have to wait until morning to face. 

“Tell me more about Finn.” She nudges Poe’s knee with her foot. “Do you like him?” 

“I don’t think he sees me like that.” 

“That’s not what I asked.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise they'll all be happy by the end of this.


	9. Chapter 9

Finn hits a wall. The clock in the lower right-hand corner of his laptop says 8:57 pm and he squints at it with incredulity. That can't be right. In fact, he refuses to believe it. He grabs his phone and toggles off the ‘Do Not Disturb’ setting.  The giant number in the corner of the Messages icon screams at him, loud and commanding , and he knows without checking that they’re probably all from Rose. His phone rudely echoes his laptop, though now, horrifyingly, another minute has gone by and it’s 7:58. He chances one fleeting glance at the clock on his bookshelf and it’s at that point he has to admit defeat. He’s spent his entire Saturday in his office. Yes, it’s true that he needed to get work done today and yes, it’s comforting that he can wake up tomorrow knowing that he's one step closer to another year of funding, but still. A 13-hour workday wasn’t quite what he had in mind. The upside, he realizes, is that it means 13 hours where he wasn’t thinking about Poe. Is that an upside? Finn shakes the thought from his head and stands up and every joint in his body creaks in protest. He looks at his phone again. 9:01 pm. The coffee shop is closed now. He knows it is. Poe will have already finished closing. Finished sweeping, mopping, stacking chairs. Finn knows this. Knows that, even at his slowest, it wouldn’t have taken Poe two hours to close up shop. But still, a part of him wonders— hopes, really— if he walks over there will he get to see Poe? Finn huffs loudly and starts packing up his things. This is stupid. He’s being stupid. Poe is his friend. They’re just  _ friends.  _ The thought repeats on a loop. Friends. You can go a few days without seeing your friends. You can spend a day buried in your work without thinking about your friends. Thinking about them the second your brain isn’t actively occupied doesn’t mean anything, right? Friends. He and Poe are friends. Finn locks the door to his office and heads toward the elevators. 

This definitely was not an upside.

* * *

Finn dials Rose’s number the second his engine turns over. The phone is barely on its second ring before her voice comes through the car speakers and Finn feels his shoulders relax a little. 

“Oh, blessed day! He’s returned! The Prodigal son has returned!!” 

“Eight. I have missed eight texts” 

“I was worried about you! Also, you’re on speaker. Jannah’s here.” 

“Hi, Jannah. And while I appreciate your concern, I was working. I’m just pulling out the parking lot.” 

“Jesus, Finn, it’s a Saturday! I know your deadline is coming up but none of that will matter if you’re too tired and rundown to present it to the board. ” That’s Jannah.

Finn feels a need to apologize to her for...working? Working late? He’s not exactly sure. 

“Sorry, Finn, she gets bossy when she cares” 

“It’s not bossy to tell you to take a break” 

Finn smiles. “Where am I going, Tico? I assume at least one of the texts contained my plans for the evening.” 

“Oh my god! Are you actually...offering to go out?” 

“No, he's not.” “No, I'm not." Finn and Jannah respond in unison. 

“WOW OKAY. I was joking!! Also, you clearly didn’t read your texts because, if you did, you’d know I was inviting you to dinner tomorrow.” 

“You needed eight texts to invite me to dinner?” 

“No I needed one text to invite you to dinner, one text to fix the typo in the first text, and then six texts to ask why you were ignoring the first two texts.” 

He laughs in earnest. “Okay, got it. Well, yes, count me in for dinner. I’ll read all eight texts for the details. Also, I’m almost home so if you’re not trying to force me into another karaoke night..” 

“Wait, wait, hold on, one more thing.” Finn can hear the smirk hit her voice. “How’s Poe?” 

“Love you, see you tomorrow! Bye Jannah!” Finn hits the ‘End Call’ button on the dashboard before Rose can respond. He pulls up to a red light and rests his head on the steering wheel as a low groan fills the car. Finn’s not surprised Rose asked about Poe and, to her credit, she’s been very patient about his caginess around their lunch...he hesitates to call it a date. Because it wasn't a date, but it wasn’t NOT a date. His head shoots up as the car horn behind him sounds and sees that the light’s turned green. The rest of the drive passes in a blur and the next thing Finn knows, he’s at his doorstep. His mind is racing and hates that he’s once again thinking about Poe and how many days it's been since he’s seen him and hates even more that it’s only been three and he’s this hung up about it. But the thing he hates the most is how empty his apartment feels tonight as he steps through the door.

* * *

They’re being too loud and all of them know it. Fortunately, they’re regulars. Well, Finn and Rose are, since they’ve been coming to Amigo’s, the town’s perfectly divey Mexican restaurant, for years. The table is littered with a respectable amount of beer bottles, four empty baskets of chips, and— because it’s Amigo’s and because it’s Rose— a few mangled slices of lime and the remainder of the tequila shot Jannah insists on sipping so she can “pace herself.”

" Wait, was that the asshole that was super into Chaucer or someone else?" Finn asks as he takes a drink of his beer.

"He wasn't an asshole that was super into Chaucer he was an asshole that  _ pretended _ to be super into Chaucer. There's a difference." 

"Why does that feel worse?" Jannah asks. 

"Oh it is definitely worse." Finn again

"It is, isn't it?" Jannah says through a laugh. "At dinner like 'oh yes indubitably! Romeo and Juliet is just so terribly derivative of Troilus and Crysidae it's no wonder people thought Shakespeare was a hack!'"

Jannah and Finn fall into hysterics, nearly knocking their empty bottles on the ground. 

"No, no. Stop this," Rose says waving her beer bottle between the two of them. "If you're going to be friends you have to mock me individually. No teams." 

"Oh come on, you love it." Jannah grins, standing slightly and reaching across the table to pull Rose in for a kiss. 

Finn smiles at their open affection, which is of course the exact same moment his brain provides a mental image of him doing that with Poe. 

Fuck. 

So make that four days Finn has spent thinking about Poe. Four days since they last saw each other at the symposium and four days that he’s been positively fucked up over it. The Lunch Not Date still seared in his memory and, at this point, he’s replayed their conversation just enough times to where Finn is convinced every single thing he said was stupid and meaningless, while every single thing Poe said was brilliant and hilarious. The upside is that it also makes four days that he’s been productive, more productive than he has in weeks, but it’s a productivity that’s come at the expense of not seeing his...friend. Poe was his friend. They were just. friends. 

“Hellooo?” Rose waves a hand in front of Finn’s face and he blinks rapidly, Rose and Jannah coming back into focus. 

“Uh, sorry. I was just..." Finn picks at the label on his beer bottle. 

“Thinking about-”

“Yep.” 

“Why don’t you just tell him?”

“Because he doesn’t feel the same.” 

“He might.”

“He doesn’t.” 

“You don’t know that.” 

“You don’t know him.”

“No, but  _ you  _ do.” 

“Not like that.” 

“Well, you could.” 

“I get it.” 

“If you tried.” 

_ “I get it. _ ” 

Jannah’s eyes ping back and forth like it’s match point at Wimbledon. She’s lost, of course, but they are tracking right alongside each other and it’s fascinating to watch their dynamic at play. Finn sighs and takes a long drink of his beer. Rose is right, he knows she is, and he knows she means well. Rose is intense and full-on, but never in a way that’s malicious, never in a way she thinks he can’t handle. 

“Look,” Rose’s voice is a little quieter this time. “I get it, I do, but people don’t do things they don’t want to do. You don’t go to a symposium for the guy you hate.”

* * *

Poe pulls his third bad shot in a row. He spent the entire train ride to work this morning hoping and praying for a busy shift. If his mind stayed busy he couldn’t think about Finn and if he couldn’t think about Finn he couldn’t think about the multitude of reasons Finn couldn’t like him back. Of course, Poe should know by now shutting off his brain is not his strong suit. 

“Sorry, I’m usually, uh, better at my job than this.” Poe tries for a self-deprecating smile but it reads as more of a grimace. 

“Hey, no problem. I got time.”

He takes a deep breath before starting the fourth shot and, finally. He steams the milk and is grateful the customer ordered the drink to go, so he can just slap a lid on top of the cup instead of worrying about the latte art the shop owner insists on for all in-house orders. “Thanks for your patience,” Poe says as he slides the cup across the pick-up counter. 

“Seriously, it was no sweat. Take it easy, my man.” The customer gives Poe a genuine smile. 

Easy. Sure. 

He grabs a dishtowel and turns to the overflowing drying rack trying to force his mind to zone out. The door chimes behind him. “I’ll be right with you!” he says in his well-worn customer service voice. He finishes drying the mug in his hand and turns around, his shoulders relaxing instantly when he sees who it is. 

‘I was starting to think I’d scared you away.” Finn’s t-shirt is slightly too tight and Poe tries (and fails) not to notice. 

“Oh you did, but this is still the closest coffee shop to campus, so.” 

They smile at each other and Poe hates how easy it always feels between them. It makes the fear feel even more stupid. 

“Same as always?” 

“Same as always. But, uh, can I get it to go?” 

Poe’s heart sinks. 

“Uh, sure! Yeah, of course!” There’s a bit too much faux sincerity in his tone. “Uh, six dollars.” 

Finn pays, overtipping like always, and Poe starts on the drinks. He makes the cortado first and Finn downs it the second he sets it on the counter. Poe thought he saw the slightest tremor in his fingers as Finn reached for the cup, but he pushes the thought out of his mind and pulls the shot for the Americano. The air feels weirdly tense between them now, which is odd anyway, but especially when things were so light just a few seconds ago. Poe wants to speak, thinks he should, but is suddenly at loss for words so he just finishes Finn’s order in silence. 

“And here’s your Americano.” 

Finn grabs the cup and turns without saying anything. He starts for the door but doesn’t make it half a step before doubling back to face Poe once again. 

“Can I have your phone number?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 14k words and they finally exchange numbers! eternal thanks and appreciation for everyone reading/commenting/going on this journey with me! xx


	10. Chapter 10

**Monday, August 31, 2020**

POE DAMERON- 8:12 PM   
Did you get your drink to go today just in case I rejected you? 

We do not have to do this.

POE DAMERON - 8:12 PM   
No, no, I think it’s cute you get nervous around me.

I’m blocking your number.

POE DAMERON - 8:13PM    
No you’re not.

Finn types a response and then deletes it. And then retypes it...and then deletes it again..and then retypes it and hits send before he can think too hard about what he’s doing. Rose and Jannah told him to be bold and go for it, or at the very least, fucking TALK to Poe about his feelings, so that's what he’s doing. Or trying to. He gets so nervous talking to Poe now, which feels ridiculous given how comfortable they’ve gotten around each other and how much time they’ve spent together. Finn has always felt much less equipped to match Poe’s flirtatious energy and now that the flirting feels like it actually means something...well Finn feels positively out of his depth. He grabs his phone and stares at the message that now feels like incriminating evidence. “Would you like to go to dinner with me?” It feels too formal, somehow. Should have tried for something light and low pressure, he thinks. He puts his phone face down on the couch and opens his laptop and clicks open the draft of his paper. The cursor mocks him and he slams the laptop shut. A shower. He’ll take a shower and hope the scalding water takes his regret down the drain with it. Finn scrubs his hands over his face and stands to walk down the hall. He's barely out of the living room when his phone beeps and he nearly twists an ankle lunging for it. 

POE DAMERON - 8:28PM    
Are you asking me on a date, Finn? 

Of course he is making this difficult. Finn sighs and sits on the arm of his couch. 

Are you saying yes if I am?

Poe types his answer, but before he can hit send his phone starts to ring, Finn’s name flashing across the screen. 

“Uh, hi.” 

“Hi.” Finn smiles at the sound of Poe’s voice. “Um. Sorry, I was going to wait..for your text, I mean. With your answer. But the last time you took kind of a long time to respond. Well longer than my ego could stand, anyway, and just...uh...yeah. Sorry. Can you just say something now so I’ll stop saying everything?” 

“So it’s not always avoidance when you’re nervous.” 

“What?” 

“Sometimes you ramble. When you’re nervous. Are you nervous right now, Finn?” Poe’s voice dips lower. Goading. Tempting.

The silence between them is electric. Finn steels himself. 

“Tomorrow. Text me your address. I’ll pick you up at 7.” He ends the call before Poe can respond and before he can lose his resolve.

* * *

Rey walks into the kitchen right as Poe sets his phone back down on the counter. He’s standing at the sink, grinning like a schoolgirl. 

“Why are you smiling like that?” 

Poe’s excited eyes meet her skeptical ones and he plunges his hands back into the soapy water. “Am I not allowed to smile?” 

“No, you are, it’s just been a long time since I’ve seen you smile like _that_.” Rey crosses to the fridge and grabs a seltzer before taking a seat on the counter. “Details.” 

Poe feels his shoulders tense. Rey’s been trying so hard to work on them since he told her about Finn and Poe’s trying, too. Less hard, sure, but the effort's there, though a part of him is hesitant about how quickly they’ve started to return to form—it feels too fast for them to go from barely talking to talking about dates after one emotionally vulnerable drunken night. But Poe told himself he’d make the effort. That’d he’d push through the fear. So here he is, pushing. 

“I was on the phone with Finn. Right before you walked in.” Poe’s eyes are laser focused on the dishes. 

“You gave him your number? That’s great, Poe!” 

“Well he asked for it. Today. At the shop.” He keeps scrubbing the plate in his hand and tries to force himself to relax and keep pushing through the fear and discomfort of having this conversation sober. “He, uh, asked me on a date?” He makes it a question. 

“Poe! That’s amazing!! Oh my god, when?” Rey’s thrilled and so genuinely happy for Poe and for some reason it makes him sad. 

“Uh. Tomorrow, actually. Told me when to be ready and that he was picking me up.”

“Wow.”

“What?” Poe's tone is flat.

“Nothing! It’s just...you’ve never…I’m just surprised that after years of acting like the quarterback you’re finally letting yourself be the cheerleader.” 

Poe looks over his shoulder at Rey. He wants his ego to be bruised by the comment but can’t quite get there. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Rey hops off the counter and starts walking out of the kitchen. “It means I’m glad you’re finally letting someone else take the reins.” She gives Poe’s shoulder a gentle squeeze as she passes and then he’s alone in the kitchen again. 

He looks at his phone and dries his hands.

* * *

POE DAMERON - 8:45PM   
1004 Corellian Dr. 

And I’m glad you asked.

* * *

Finn takes a deep breath and shakes out his limbs. He’s standing on Poe’s porch and trying not to freak out. He’d spent the entire day buried in his work, hoping that’d calm his nerves, but all that did was give him enough time to convince himself this wasn’t a date and was just “hanging out.” Sure, Poe called it a date—Finn had read the text multiple times throughout the day to remind himself—”Are you asking me out a date, Finn?”—but the text was cheeky and flirty, just like everything about Poe, and the subsequent phone call too short to parse any real meaning from...which still didn’t stop Finn from overthinking every single second of the interaction. He takes another deep breath. 

“Okay, Finn, you got this. No pressure. Just two friends…” He knocks on the door before he can finish the thought. 

Poe pulls the door open with a smile. “I was wondering how long you were gonna stand out here.” 

“Uh...I...” Finn gestures pointlessly behind him “was...just…” 

Poe smirks at him. “I heard your car pull up.” 

“Right. Well, uh, should we?” Another awkward gesture. 

Poe pulls the front door closed and brushes past Finn, walking confidently towards the car. “So, what’s on the agenda for the evening? Just dinner? Dinner and a movie? Concert in a park? Vespa ride through the streets of Rome?” Poe waits at the passenger side door as Finn crosses in front to the driver’s side.

“Why do you get to be Audrey Hepburn?” Finn raises an eyebrow at Poe, who, of course, matches his gaze and holds it. 

“If you want to wrap your hands around my waist, Finn, don’t be shy.” 

“We’ll be late if we don’t, uh,” Finn fumbles with the keys for a few seconds before hearing the click of his door. He quickly slides in the car and slams the door shut a bit harder than necessary. He only unlocked his door, leaving Poe on the street, but he needs a minute. Poe always comes out swinging and Finn wishes he had such practiced confidence about himself, too. It seems to come so easy to Poe. He lets out a few sharp, quick breaths—his last moments of solitude and a feeble attempt to hype himself up for the night ahead—before pressing the unlock button on the door. Finn can’t bring himself to look at Poe, mercifully quiet for once in his life, but still catches Poe trying and failing to hide a smile out of his periphery. Finn starts the car, eyes focused so intently ahead he’d burn a hole through the windshield if he could, and pulls away from the curb. The energy in the car is less than tense but more than relaxed and Finn is acutely aware of how elevated his pulse is. A chill runs down his spine as he feels Poe relax into the passenger seat and let his eyes rove aimlessly over Finn’s frame. When he speaks, his voice is soft but retains its usual confidence. 

“Where are you taking me? Or is it a surprise?” 

Finn partly hopes that if he’s silent long enough Poe will talk again so he won’t have to or maybe their destination will magically come into view ten minutes earlier than the directions he’d checked (and double checked and then triple checked) on his phone while trying to center his nerves on the porch said it would so he could just point and nod or offer up an overly chipper “We’re here!” Anything to get out of making conversation that suddenly feels impossible to make. But Poe just waits patiently and the buildings they pass resemble everything but the museum so...talking it is. Finn lets out a breath and curses himself in his head when it comes out shaky. 

“I..I know I said dinner..on the phone, and we are going to do that! But, uh, you’ve been so interested in my paper and you came to the symposium so I thought it might be fun to...I’m taking you to the Air and Space Museum.” Finn rushes out the last part of his sentence a bit too quickly. Poe doesn’t respond, but he’s still looking at Finn, the beginnings of a smile pulling at his lips. 

The energy in the car has relaxed little by little on the drive and the little tension that remains finally falls away when Poe...laughs. It’s not harsh or mocking, it’s genuine belly laughter and, instead of making Finn feel self conscious, it calms him. His grip loosens around the steering wheel, his shoulders pull down from around his ears, his heart rate slows. It’s an unexpected but not unwelcome physical reaction and Finn pushes any thoughts of what that means out of his mind. Instead he starts laughing, too. 

“What?! What’s funny about a science museum??” 

“Nothing!” Poe raises his hands in faux surrender. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?” He puts on a mocking imitation of Finn’s voice. “Oh I know! This handsome idiot barista must be positively obsessed with my big science brain so I’ll just take him to a science museum where I can brag about how smart I am. Again.” 

Finn’s laughing harder and his posture’s even more relaxed. “Okay first of all I don’t talk like that, second of all I don't brag, and third of all I thought it’d be FUN since you’re clearly interested in this sort of thing. Also, I do not think you’re an idiot.” 

“But you do think I’m handsome?” 

Finn rolls his eyes. “Shut up.” 

“Alright, fine, I’ll be serious. I’m excited! You did good.” 

“Thank you. I’m glad you think so because the tickets are non-refundable.” 

They make casual conversation for the remaining few minutes of the drive, but when they pull into the parking lot where exactly they are hits Poe with a rush. He has no specific attachments to this museum, or museums at all really, but the last time he’d spent a substantial portion of his afternoon staring at planes..well. And the last thing he wants to do is have another panic attack. Here. Now. In front of Finn. Finn pulls into a spot and puts the car in park, turning to Poe with an expectant grin. “You ready, Dameron?” 

“Ye-yeah. Let’s go!” He steels himself and opens the car door taking a second to ground himself when his feet hit the pavement. ‘You can do this, Poe. It’s just a couple of exhibits. It’s not the academy. You can do this,’ he thinks. He pushes himself out of the car and turns to find Finn standing in front of it, a bright smile plastered on his face. ‘You can do this,’ he thinks.

* * *

It’s a guided tour, which Poe is grateful for, because it gives him time to focus on staying calm without the need to make much conversation. He’s annoyed at himself for even feeling so anxious and then more annoyed because he already knows what Dr. Holdo is going to say to him about it. They’re walking through the “50 Years from Tranquility Base” exhibit. The tour guide, to his credit, is really selling it, and Finn is absolutely buying. He keeps pointing out parts of the exhibit to Poe and whispering facts and details the guide probably wouldn’t know. They’re led into the “Moving Beyond Earth” exhibit next where the guide announces the conclusion of the tour and tells them when and where they can pick up the second half of it. Immediately Finn lights up and makes a beeline for the giant platform labeled “SpaceFlight Academy” in the center of the room. He’s smiling like a kid in a candy store and Poe’s anxiety falls away from a moment. There’s a lot of moving parts in this exhibit but Poe’s fully focused on Finn, running from area to area and taking full advantage of the ‘interactive’ portion of this exhibit. 

“Poe! You talk a big game so let’s see what you got!” Finn calls to him from across the room. He’s back in the middle platform leaning against a podium. Poe smiles and shoves his hands in pockets to settle his nerves and walks towards the “SpaceFlight Academy.” 

“A quiz? Really.” 

“Oh, come on, you’ve been listening to me ramble about this stuff for months. Time to see if the handsome idiot barista’s been paying attention.” Finn raises his eyebrows in challenge. 

“You’re on.”

* * *

Poe loses. 

“Wow. It’s like you just learned about the existence of the Solar System today!” Finn’s laughing at him, much like Poe was in the car.

“Or maybe you’re just a bad teacher! And I maintain I should have gotten the number of planets question right. Pluto still counts!” 

“Yeah well the International Astronomical Union disagrees with you.” 

“There’s no way that’s a real organization.”

“If you listened to me at all you’d know it is.” Finn gives Poe’s shoulder a playful shove. “Wanna go check out the featured aircraft exhibit? It’s recently reopeeened.” Finn says in a singsong voice. 

“Are you going to mock me the entire time?”

“Don’t think of it as mocking, think of it as...humbling.”

They walk into the next exhibit and Poe freezes. The hall is filled with one type of aircraft. They’re beautiful and...the exact plane his mom used to fly. “What’s this exhibit called?” His voice is small. 

“Uh,” Finn looks up at the sign above them “The Spirit of the Blackbird. A journey into the—“

“SR-71 jet plane.” Poe finishes the title for him.

“Yeah. Do you? You know about planes?” 

“Yeah, a little bit.”

The tour guide starts talking, listing facts about the aircraft and its status as the “pinnacle of aviation technology developments upon its debut in the mind 40s.” Poe’s heart is racing and he feels like he’s in a wind tunnel as the guide's voice becomes white noise. He’s staring at the plane suspended above them. His mind unhelpfully supplies a string of memories of his mom and the walls feel like they’re closing in. He can feel Finn next to him. Is he saying something? Asking questions? The group is moving through the exhibit and Poe’s following but not listening. He can’t stop looking at the plane. The dual turbine engines with its air intake and bypass system, the fuel tank panels, the pitch black paint formulated to radiate some of the heat generated by the friction of the air in flight. All of the details his mom used to tell him about. His breathing is getting shallower and he knows he needs to leave. 

“Can we get out of here?” His voice is a whisper and easily drowned out by the guide who, Poe realizes, is incorrectly discussing the external skin of the plane. 

“This aircraft is covered in a titanium alloy, which helped camouflage its flight in the night sky. As you can see—“

“That’s not right.” Poe’s voice is loud enough for Finn to hear. 

“What’d you say?” 

“That’s not right.” This time he’s loud enough that the guide and the rest of the tour hears and suddenly there’s an entire group of people looking at him. 

“I’m sorry, sir?” The guide looks confused. 

“What you said about the titanium. It’s not true.” 

“Oh, well with all due respect, sir, I think I’d know. “ 

“No. You wouldn’t know. You said the titanium alloy was for camouflage. You’re wrong.” Poe’s breaths are coming faster and shallower and he knows he should stop talking, knows he should turn around and leave, but his feet are bolted in place. “It was because this plane was such a feat of engineering and flew so fast that the heat it generated would have melted the aluminum of the frame.” His voice is rising and both the guide and the people around him are slowly backing up. “The titanium was a shield against the heat, without it pilots would have died. Burned to death mid-flight.” 

“Poe, come on. Let’s get some air.” Finn’s voice is gentle. 

“Sir, I suggest you listen to your friend.” The guide’s patronizing tone only agitates Poe further.

“What else are you going to get wrong, huh?” 

“Poe. Let’s  _ go. _ ” Finn’s a bit more insistent and tugs on the sleeve on Poe’s jacket to get him to move. 

“Why don’t you tell them about why it ended up being a two-seater aircraft? Or about the radar tech embedded into the framework?” He’s nearly yelling now but he’s letting Finn drag him out of the exhibit while he does it. Once they’re in the main hallway, Finn makes for the side exits. He’s not speaking but even if he were Poe wouldn’t hear it, he’s spitting out fragmented sentences in between increasingly shallow breaths and Finn’s trying to keep any look of alarm off his face. Finn shoulders the exit door open and lets go of Poe’s jacket. The side exit spits them out at the nearly empty back parking lot. Poe immediately starts pacing and clenching and unclenching his fists. 

“Poe?” 

He’s breathing so heavily it sounds like he’s drowning, and he’s speaking but Finn can’t make out the words. 

“Poe? Are you okay?” Finn’s clearly nervous, but when Poe collapses onto the curb, grabs the back of his neck with both hands, and starts rocking back and forth, any attempts to keep from looking or sounding worried are gone.

“Poe!” Finn drops down in front of Poe and hesitates for half a second before gently grabbing Poe’s face between his hands. “Poe, look at me. Breathe. It’s okay.” 

Poe’s breathing is taking all of his effort and he’s trying to shake his head back and forth. No, he doesn’t want Finn to see this part of him. Finn wasn’t supposed to see this part of him. 

“Breathe. I’m right here. Just look at me. I’m right here.”

* * *

It took about ten minutes for Poe to calm down and for his breathing to regulate. They walked to the car and sat in silence in the parking lot for another ten minutes before Finn turned it on. He offered to take him straight home, but Poe insisted that the night not end that way so now they’re back at Wild Fable. It’s not the restaurant Finn originally had in mind for tonight, but it was such a successful and low pressure environment for the two of them last time it feels like the safest bet. Poe spins his glass in slow circles on the table, eyes fixed on the amber liquid within. He speaks for the first time in roughly forty-five minutes. 

“I’m sorry. About what happened back there. At the museum.” 

Finn’s leaning back in his chair and hasn’t taken his eyes off Poe, except for the drive, since the panic attack. It’s a compassionate and relaxed gaze, but it still makes Poe feel like he’s under a microscope.

“Oh, don’t be. I mean you’re probably not the first person to correct a tour guide.” 

“That’s not what I...you know what I mean.” 

“I’m not letting you apologize for that, Poe.” 

“You shouldn’t have had to see me like that.” 

“Like what? What is it you think I saw?” 

Poe exhales slowly. “You know what I mean, Finn.”

“No, I don’t. You want me to accept an apology that I don’t need. That I don’t even want. I didn’t “see you” like anything. Or at least not anything bad.” 

“Yeah…” 

They’re silent for a few minutes before Finn speaks again. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

“Hm?” 

“If you already know so much about planes...why do you suck at learning astrophysics?” 

Poe lets out a surprised laugh and cuts his eyes up at Finn. “Really?” 

“I mean,” he leans forward and rests his elbows on the table. “I know they’re not exactly the same, but surely if you can figure out the science of air travel that’s gotta give a bit of an edge on the whole space thing, yeah?” A cheeky grin spreads across his face—it’s obvious what he’s doing, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t working. 

Poe lifts his head to look at Finn for real. “Like I said before, maybe I just have a bad teacher.” 

“Or maybe you’re a distracted student.” 

“The professor’s distracting.” 

They hold each other’s gaze, daring the other to make a move. 

“So, how’d you learn to fly?” 

A small smile breaks out on Poe’s face. “My mom. She was a fighter pilot. When I was little she’d take me to the flight academy and sit me on her lap in the simulator and teach me.” Poe blinks a few times and looks back down at his drink. 

“She sounds pretty cool.” 

“She was. She, uh, died. When I was eight.” 

Finn doesn’t attempt any platitudes or apologies or, god forbid, the “she’s probably in a better place” bullshit most people try and just says “Oh.” instead. Poe keeps going. 

“Yeah. I used to be a student, actually. Because of her. I wanted to be just like her.” 

“She’s why you know so much about the Blackbirds.” 

“It’s what she flew. She, and...uh…” This was already much deeper water than Poe was planning on swimming in tonight but, hell, they were already here. “When my mom was a Lieutenant, she was assigned to be the personal pilot of this General, Leia. Basically any memory I have of my mom, Leia’s there, too. After my mom died, she took me in. She’s the one that encouraged me to join the academy, supported me. She’d always tell me “She’d be so proud of you, Poe…” The end of his sentence trails off and he blinks back the tears forming in the corner of his eyes.

“Why’d you leave?” 

Another sigh. “Leia died, too, and...it all just kind of felt...pointless, you know?” 

“Mmm.” 

“I should have told you before. When we first got there. That I might freak out.” 

“You didn’t freak out.” Finn’s voice is so sincere it almost hurts.

* * *

Eventually the conversation shifts to something more lighthearted and Poe relaxes even more. They order food and take their time, tipping extraordinarily well when they realize they’re the last table to close out their tab. They walk back to the car and the drive back to Poe’s place is silent, but this time it’s content. Finn puts the car in park in front of Poe’s apartment and Poe unbuckles his seat belt. 

“Thank you for tonight. I had a great time. And, thank you, for, the way you, uh..”

“Don’t.” They look at each other one last time and Poe grabs the door handle, pushing the door open. He’s halfway out of the car when he turns back to face Finn. 

“What?” 

Poe leans forward, his left hand reaching out to grab Finn’s right, where it rests on the center console, but before he can work up enough courage to just go for it, Poe leans back and says, “Goodnight, Finn.” 

“Goodnight.” 

Finn makes sure Poe’s inside before he drives away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've jumped a few sharks but in my defense, I said it was a "slow-ish" burn. I love all my typos equally and thank you all for your endless patience. 
> 
> xx


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a shorter chapter today, but we're ramping up to a lot very good things coming soon! 
> 
> xx

Poe wakes up groggy. He never sleeps well the night after a panic attack and last night was no different. After Finn dropped him off he was exhausted and fell directly into bed, only stopping long enough to step out of his jeans, foregoing his typical night shower and breaking his cardinal ‘no outside clothes on the bed’ rule. He pulls himself out of bed and starts stripping the sheets. His eyes keep darting back and forth from the bed to his phone on the side table and he simultaneously does and doesn’t hope there’s a message from Finn on it. He bundles up the sheets and heads towards the kitchen; when he and Rey were scouting apartments, the listing for the place touted a “dedicated full-scale laundry room off of the kitchen’, which turned out to mean something more like “a part of the kitchen but without technically being in the kitchen.” When he walks into the room Rey’s in her usual spot on the counter drinking coffee and halfway reading the paper. 

“Oh, morning! I didn’t hear you get in last night.” Rey’s trying to keep the excitement out of her voice, but it’s clear she is dying to hear how the date went. 

“I tried to be quiet. Figured you’d be asleep.” His tone is harsh.

“Okaaay.” 

Poe’s being obtuse on purpose and once again grafting his personal frustrations onto Rey and forcing her to walk on eggshells for him. He pours too much detergent into the washer and can feel Rey’s eyes on his back. He grips the machine with both hands and hangs his head, shoulders tensing as he does. “Look, Rey, if you want to ask just ask, okay? Let’s just get it out of the way.” 

“Um. I mean...I want to know how your date went, obviously, but only if you want to talk about it. I’m not going to force it out of you.” 

“Good. And it wasn’t a date.” Poe slams the lid of the washing machine closed and Rey jumps at the abrupt and aggressive reaction. Poe heads for the bathroom and slams that door closed, too, fully giving in to his anger now. He’s angry at himself, but knows it’s actually hiding the shame and embarrassment he feels over last night. The anger and embarrassment make him feel stupid, but his brain continuously reminding him of how gentle and kind Finn was about the whole thing makes the stupidity feel more like absurdity. He turns the shower on and discards his shirt and briefs in a pile. His skin feels sticky. The night’s sleep came in fits and starts and multiple times he jolted awake drenched in sweat as his brain successfully convinced himself that he’d read into every single interaction he’d had with Finn. They were friends. They are friends. Poe’s not ready for more. Last night proves it. 

The hot water hits him like a train and Poe scrubs his hands over his face. “Fuck.” He braces his hands on the wall in front of him letting the near-scalding water run down his back. “Okay, Poe, come on. Just breathe.” He runs through five or six cycles of a breathing exercise he got from Dr. Holdo and feels a wave of relief as his anxiety starts to calm down. He has to get it somewhat together within the next few hours or work will be hell. 

Poe finishes showering, brushes his teeth, gets dressed, and switches his sheets over to the dryer before he allows himself to check his phone. He curses himself when his heart flutters slightly at seeing Finn’s name on the screen. 

**PROFESSOR FINN- 10:28 AM  
** **I think your coworker (the short blonde-ish one) makes a better cortado than you do. Bring a pen and paper for when we close tonight because I have notes.**

Poe smiles. The text is a good sign, he thinks, proof that he hasn't scared Finn off. He has no reason to read into the text especially considering that Finn is far more direct than he is, but he does. Poe decides the text is entirely friendly. Not flirty. Last night wasn't a date because they aren't dating. They hung out like friends and they'll hang out like friends again. He types out a quick response to Finn before putting his phone on silent and shoving it into his back pocket. Friends. That's all they can be. 

Poe can't allow them to be more.

* * *

Finn squints at that message on his phone. He reads it a third time but it's still just as weird as before.

"Okay." 

That's all Poe sent. Okay. Period. Finn rereads his own message trying to parse any potential harshness or unintended cruelty in his words but comes up short. When he sent the text, he was expecting the usual Poe. The flirty, confident, joking Poe. But instead, "Okay."

He sets his phone down and turns back to his computer but before he can start working again his office door slams open. 

“FINN.” 

He sighs deeply. “Hi, Rose. You know some of us do come to this building to get work done.” 

“Yeah, yeah that’s great. Science. Space. It’s all amazing,” she says as she falls into one of the chairs that sit in front of his desk. “Soooo.” 

Finn cuts his eyes from the monitor to Rose, who is more than giddy. It’s obvious why she’s here, but Finn so rarely gets the opportunity to make her sweat. Which is why he can’t quite hide his smile when he says “Sooo?? What? You need help in the lab or something?” 

She narrows her eyes at him. “That you would dare treat me with such cruelty after everything I’ve done for you.” 

“Does it get exhausting being so dramatic?” 

“It used to, but all the practice built my stamina. Now talk. Date. Details.” After a beat she adds, “Please.” 

Finn smiles a bit wider and turns his attention fully towards Rose. “It was...good. Really good. We went to the air and space museum and-” 

“Oh my GOD of course you did. Not enough that your first date was a symposium?” 

“For the record he thought the museum was a great idea and, wait. Hold on. The symposium wasn’t a date.” 

“Okay, we can believe that.” 

“Going to dinner with your friend after he comes to a work thing is not a date.”

“After he surprises you at a work thing, but, continue.” 

Finn rolls his eyes, “ANYWAY. So first we did the Tranquility Base exhibit and then there was this exhibit on Blackbirds? These planes? And Poe...Poe’s like..a genius with them. He knew all sorts of stuff. About the radar tech and titanium alloy they used to build it. He’s really brilliant.” 

Rose’s mouth pulls into a smile. “You did that thing.” 

Finn’s eyes pull together. “What thing?” 

“That thing when you’re talking about something that makes you happy. Your eyes go all...I don’t know...twinkly.” 

“Twinkly?” 

“Yeah, space man, twinkly.” Rose crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow. She doesn’t say anything else but they both know she’s made her point.

* * *

Finn walks into the shop about an hour before it closes, buys his usual drink, and takes his usual table. Poe starts on the dishes and pretends he’s just getting a head start on closing, but it's really because the sink gives him a direct sight line to Finn. He looks extraordinarily calm, Poe thinks. Not at all like someone who recently witnessed their friend have a breakdown over an airplane. Poe urges time to move faster so he can talk to Finn and figure out where his head's at. How much he’s told Rose. Sure, he’d withheld details with Rey, but did Finn do the same? It’s clear, even in the handful of interactions Poe’s witnessed, that their relationship is much healthier and that they’re much closer than he is to Rey. Did he tell Rose? Will he tell Rose? Surely, he has? Right?

There’s a rush of customers at about twenty ‘till 6, which provides a small distraction, but when Finn walks up the pick-up counter and asks “You get the tables and I’ll sweep the floors?” Poe’s nerves flood back in full force. 

“Uh, yeah. Perfect.” It takes every ounce of energy to keep his voice steady. “What’s on the syllabus for today?” Poe grabs a clean bar towel from the bin and makes a fresh bottle of cleaning solution. He watches as Finn rifles through the supply closet for the broom. He’s listening as intently as he can, but the ringing in Poe’s ears make Finn’s voice sound far away. 

“Well I’ve been thinking about symbiotic binary systems a lot lately as a way to kind of clear my brain after I spend all day working on all the shit for my Board defence.” Poe exhales a small, breathy laugh because of course this man relaxes by thinking about something called a symbiotic binary system. “And in the Milky Way, there’s a system called the Hen 3-160, right? And there have been a few studies, mostly out of Poland, that suggest the Hen most likely contains a Mira variable star, which is HUGE because..."

Poe’s mostly zoned out while he cleans the tables. He’s only catching every third word, which is even worse than his usual, rather abysmal level of understanding. Finn’s still talking and sweeping and Poe can’t take it anymore; he has to ask. 

“What did you tell Rose?” His voice is so tiny it's a miracle Finn even hears him, but he does. He stops sweeping and turns to face Poe. 

“What’d you say?” Finn's voice is calm as ever, but tinged with the slightest bit of confusion. 

"What did you tell Rose? Or I guess..what did she say? When you told her how I freaked out?" Poe’s wringing the bar towel between his hands and his eyes are glued to the floor.

Finn’s pupils contract slightly as his face contorts into a mix of concern and hurt. "What?" 

"The panic attack? I know I don't really know Rose, but she seems the type to have an opinion on something like that."

Finn's face twists into deeper confusion. "Sorry, why do you think I'd tell Rose about your panic attack? And if I had, what opinion, exactly, do you think she'd have on it?" 

Poe realizes too late what he's done. The question was supposed to be a dig at himself, the manifestation of his shame and embarrassment. Instead he accused Finn and his best friend of lacking any discretion, awareness, or capacity for understanding.

"Shit, sorry.” He looks up at Finn and takes a half step towards him. “That's not...I just assumed you'd tell her. Because she's your best friend and I mean it was a part of the date." Poe closes his eyes against the word date. "Not that I think it was for sure a—I just...I meant I wouldn't have been surprised if you  _ had  _ told her, is all." 

Finn's still looking at him, but some of the confusion is replaced with a bit more hurt. "Right. Well. I mean..yeah I told Rose about our date, of course I did," He bits a bit more emphasis than necessary on the word date. "but your panic attack wasn't the feature act of the night, Poe. I left out that I kicked your ass in trivia, but I told her you’re brilliant and that you can fly planes, but your anxiety wasn't a necessary detail. And obviously I want Rose to get to know more of you, but..I don't know that just doesn't seem like my story to tell.” 

Poe doesn’t say anything but rather just stares at the brilliant man in front of him, the brilliant man that thinks  _ he’s  _ brilliant, too. 

“I didn’t tell her, Poe. I wouldn’t. I’d hoped you’d know that.” 

There’s another pause between them. 

"You're so good, Finn," Poe says. "Too good for me," he thinks.


	12. Chapter 12

Poe spends the next few weeks in his head, overthinking everything and trying not to dwell on anything, but especially not on the fact that Finn knows about his panic attacks,  _ witnessed  _ his panic attacks and didn’t run. He knows, of course, that it’s a good thing that Finn didn’t run, but it also chips away at his “people leave you when they know you” theory. And Poe’s not ready to abandon that theory. He hasn’t told Rey any more about the date and cancelled therapy. Work sucks and he’s kind of been an ass to everyone, including Finn, who has permanently upped his attendance to twice a day— an iced coffee, to-go, and an espresso shot that he drinks standing at the pick-up counter for the morning and his usual cortado and Americano while he waits for the shop to close. Poe would be worried about what that much caffeine was doing to Finn’s sleep schedule but Finn never seems tired and Poe, despite his best efforts, is always so goddamn happy to see him. It doesn’t help that when he’s not at the shop, Finn’s been in near constant contact via text. Sending excerpts from his paper and “Hi!’s from Rose and facts about airplanes. Ever since the museum Finn’s taken it upon himself to learn more about the mechanics of flying, with what free time Poe’s unsure, and when he sent an inquiring text all he got was a “well it’s important to you so why wouldn’t I want to learn about it?” 

Poe didn’t respond for three hours.

* * *

It’s Wednesday and Poe is roughly ten minutes away from quitting. The woman at the register has deemed Poe unworthy of basic human respect and refuses to look up from her phone. 

“Hi. So last week I came in here and I ordered a vanilla latte that was like... _ too _ vanilla...and I was wondering if you had anything like that but more plain?” She scrolls lazily through her phone, the bored look on her face perfectly replicating her tone.

“Um. Well. We have our regular latte?” Poe’s face pulls into confusion. 

“No, no, not that. I want a vanilla latte but like with less vanilla. You know what I mean?” 

“No.” 

She sighs heavily. “I want a vanilla latte. Plain. Okay? Like. That’s what I want. And I’m the  _ customer _ so I should get what I want. Okay?” 

Poe sighs back. “Okay, it’s just that a “vanilla latte. Plain” is a regular latte. No flavoring, no sugar. Just. A latte. And I’m the  _ barista _ so I know how coffee works. Okay?” If the shop owner was here she would have intervened by now and probably written him up, but it’d been months since she kept any sort of regular schedule. 

“Okay I don’t appreciate that tone, first of all. And second of all, can I speak to your manager.” The woman finally looks up from her phone and folds her arms across her chest. 

“Oh totally, I’ll go get him,” Poe deadpans and doesn’t move. 

“Ugh, whatever. Forget it. I’m going to Starbucks.” She storms off and shoves through the door almost running into Finn. Poe brightens, immediately. 

"She was in a hurry.” Finn looks  _ good.  _ He almost saunters through the shop, hands comfortably in his jean pockets and a henley that allows Poe to appreciate Finn’s build in a way he’s never been able to before. And appreciate he does. “She didn’t find anything she likes on the menu?” Finn takes a long gaze down Poe’s frame, or as much of it as the counter allows for, and Poe’s throat dries up. 

Finn’s been doing this lately. Flirting more openly and confidently. Poe loves it and is overwhelmed by it in equal measure. His sweet spot is “very forward flirtation that he doesn’t really have to worry about backing up” but now it seems like Finn is starting to call Poe’s bluff. 

“Heh. Uh, yeah. Guess not. I take it you are, too? In a hurry, I mean.” Poe winces, but Finn just smiles at him. 

“Yeah, I gotta get to work. But, uh, I was thinking...you know the Six Films Under Fest?” 

“Is that the graveyard thing?” Poe asks as he rotates the tablet towards Finn to finish the transaction before starting on his order. 

“The horror movie festival in the cemetery. That’s the one. They’re showing Evil Dead tonight. Any interest?” Finn watches Poe as he walks the short distance from the register to the pick up counter. 

“Uhhhh I don’t know.” Poe slides the cortado across the counter and Finn reaches for it, intentionally brushing his fingers over Poe’s as he does. Poe’s eyes flash upwards and lock on Finn’s. 

“Oh, come on. I’ll protect you if you get scared.”

Poe inhales sharply and pulls his hand back. 

“Fine. But you have to help me close first,” he says as he hands Finn his Americano. 

Finn smiles that megawatt smile again. “Course, Dameron. Anything for you.”

He’s out the door before Poe can compile a response.

* * *

Finn drives them to the cemetery. They made easy conversation while they closed up the shop and even easier conversation on the drive. When they get to the cemetery, Finn unlocks the trunk and pulls out a backpack, a couple of blankets, and a small cooler. “You didn’t think I’d show up unprepared?” he asked when Poe questioned why he had it. They find a spot in the grass, with two headstones they can lean on, and Finn lays out the blankets and takes a seat, opens the backpack, and starts pulling out what can only be described as a shit ton of food. A giant sandwich on focaccia, a bowl of fruit, bags of chips, it just keeps coming. 

“Um..did you make all of this?” Poe is still standing, looking dumbstruck. 

“Yeah! Well, the bread I made this weekend and cutting fruit’s not hard but, yeah. There’s beer and water in the cooler,” Finn says, pointing to where it rests by Poe’s feet. That seems to snap him out of whatever trance he’s in and finally moves to sit. 

“Okay, but  _ when _ did you do this, Finn? I thought you worked all day?”

“Sure, but I still have a lunch break.” He smiles at Poe like it’s nothing. Like this isn’t a bizarrely huge gesture for a movie in the grass. 

“Sure. Well...thanks. This is...nice.”

* * *

Finn reclines on one of the headstones, arm slung over the other and legs outstretched in front of him, he could just as easily be laying on a couch given how comfortable he looks. Poe on the other hand is curled tightly in a ball, turning inwards towards Finn, knees gathered towards his chest, and shoulders crowding his ears. He’s distressed. If Poe had chosen the movie he wouldn’t have picked this one. It’s not that he hates scary movies, it’s just more that he’d rather watch anything else. Throw a graveyard into the mix and...it’s clear that Finn is the only thing keeping him here. 

Finn leans in close, his breath ghosting over Poe’s ear as he whispers, “Are you going to watch the whole movie through your hands?” 

A chill runs down Poe’s spine and he wants to believe it’s more from the movie and not how Finn just closed what little distance remained between the two of them. “No! Just the scary parts” 

Finn pulls back and Poe assumes that’s the end of it, until Finn’s arms wrap around him, pulling him into his chest. Poe tenses initially, but then relaxes into the feeling. Finn feels solid and secure underneath him and Poe indulges himself for a second letting a hand snake lazily up Finn’s chest, before thinking better of it and curling his hands back into his chest. “What are you doing?” He asks. He feels Finn’s voice roll through him as much as he hears it. “I told you I’d protect you.” 

"I don't need you to protect me Finn." Poe pulls back slightly.

"I know." Finn pulls him back in. He doesn't move until the credits roll.

* * *

The next day Poe doesn’t work, which is great given how little he slept. Finn had mocked him the entire drive home, but it didn’t make him feel self conscious. Finn wasn’t the first person to make fun of his fear of scary movies, but his exes always made him feel stupid or childish for not liking them. Finn made him feel secure. Not that Finn’s his boyfriend. 

He should have therapy today, but he’s cancelled it, again, like he has the past few weeks, so his day’s wide open. He knows he should keep his appointments and the constant cancelling is absolutely going to backfire on him, but he’s just not ready to unpack the...everything...but especially not whatever is happening in his relationship with Finn. Not yet.

He’s in the kitchen making coffee when his phone beeps. It’s Finn and the message is short and sweet. A “had a great time!” Before Poe can think better of it he texts back. 

“Come over after work?”

* * *

Finn actually agreed to show up, which is as shocking as it is exciting. Poe spent the morning stress pacing and then the afternoon stress cleaning. Rey, before she left work, asked Poe what the fuck was wrong with him and he’d mumbled out a somewhat coherent answer. The rest of the day passed in a blur and now Finn’s here. In Poe’s apartment. On his couch. In true Finn form, he was talking about something Poe doesn't understand. He’d started talking the second Poe opened the door. “You ever read that paper about the color of the Kuiper belt core? Oh, this is nice!” He didn’t seem deterred that Poe didn’t even know what a Kuiper belt  _ was _ or that it had a core or a color and was off to races, only pausing briefly to thank Poe for the beer set in front of him, so Poe settled into the couch for the ride. It’s not exactly a secret that, by this point, Poe loves when Finn gets like this. Eyes alight with passion, it’s like he comes alive when he talks about his work. Even after all these months of listening, he still struggles to keep up but it doesn’t matter. He’ll listen for hours if it means listening to Finn. 

“So even though we’d theorized about for over fifty years, we couldn’t actually observe proof of objects past Neptune’s orbit, other than Pluto and Charon, or course, until 1992. And after that it was just this explosion of...well...not life because habitability hasn’t been confirmed but you know what I mean...of so much stuff, right? And the Kuiper belt was so exciting because it helped us understand how the outer Solar System formed and-” Finn stops abruptly, catching Poe staring at him, his face showing nothing but sheer awe. His lips curl into a small, self-conscious smile. 

“What?”

Poe shakes his head slightly, his own smile widening, "No…nothing, uh, keep going." 

Finn narrows his eyes and pokes an accusatory finger in Poe’s direction. "If I go into the bathroom later and find out there's something in my teeth, I'm coming for you, Dameron." 

“You look great.” Poe’s voice drowns in sincerity.

They hold each other’s gaze for a second too long and feel the air grow a bit heavier with anticipation. Fear. All the things they’re both too scared to say. Finn shakes his head to break the tension and resumes his rambling, working hard to keep the shakiness out his voice. Poe sits further back on the couch, angling his body to stretch an arm across the back of it. Finn. His brilliant, brilliant friend Finn. Friend. More brilliant than anyone he's met before and certainly more brilliant than Poe, himself. There’s no way they could work, right? But if there’s one thing Poe’s learned, it’s how, so very often he is wrong. He hopes like hell he was wrong this time, too. 

Neither of them hear the door open so they both jump when Rey comes crashing through the front door. 

“Oh!” She stops short and looks back and forth between them. “Who’s this?” Both her smile and eyes are wide and she looks excitedly at Poe.

Poe struggles to form a talk; he knew that Rey and Finn would meet eventually but, somehow, idiotically, he didn’t consider that it could happen like today or like this. And if he had he probably wouldn’t have sent the text in the first place.

Finn stands up and reaches out to shake Rey’s hand. “Hi! I’m Finn.” 

Rey’s smile gets so wide Poe’s shocked she doesn’t dislocate her jaw. “Hi! Nice to put a face to the name I’ve heard so much about.” 

“Oh, really?” Finn turns to look at Poe but his eyes are locked on Rey. 

“Rey. Hi. I thought you closed tonight.” 

“I did. And then I came home. Because it’s 10:30.” 

They stare at each other and Finn realizes that he’s now in the middle of a conversation they’ve been having for much longer than Finn can comprehend. The vibe is tense and Finn, for whatever reason, tries to ease. 

“What do you do, Rey?” 

“She’s a mechanic.” Poe’s voice is unnecessarily hard.

Okay then. 

“Alright. Well. I’m going to go.” Finn rubs his hands together, trying to shake out his nervous energy. “Rey, it was great to meet you. Poe, I’ll see you tomorrow?” Finn’s voice is hopeful but the question dies in the air. 

“Okay. This is...OKAY!” 

Finn practically runs through the front door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've already accepted that I've jumped the shark so now we're just riding the wave.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are going to hurt for a bit. xx
> 
> P.s. this one is not 100% proofread but its 330am and my brain finally paused the existential dread about the *gestures* to write more of this fic so proofreading will have to come later. Thank you for your support/patience/virtual friendship.

Rey’s frozen in place with her mouth pulled into a huge smile. Poe’s staring back at her, cemented onto the couch, looking as if he’s a student who just got caught cheating on an exam. 

“Poe!!” Rey tries to force even relaxation into her tone, but she’s vibrating with excitement. 

“Can we not do this?” 

“Oh we are absolutely doing this.” 

Rey sits on the couch and beams at Poe. “Tell me EVERYTHING. Have you been hanging out long? Did you tell him you like him? Why didn’t you tell me he was so cute?” 

“See, this whole thing,” Poe waves his hand towards Rey, “is exactly why I didn’t tell you he was coming over.” 

“Oh, please. I know you’re excited.” 

Poe looks down at his lap trying to hide the smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah..” 

“Soooo. Does he know you like him? And I swear to god if you say you’re ‘just friends’ I’ll smack you.” 

Poe sighs deeply and head falls onto the back of the couch. His voice is slightly too loud as he speaks directly to the ceiling. “He doesn’t know I like him because I haven’t told him because I’ve barely told him anything because I’m trying not to freak out and I’m trying not to ruin it but I feel like it’s destined to be ruined.” 

“The only way you can ruin it is if you don’t give a chance to work.” 

“Ugh you sound like my therapist.” 

“Which means you know I’m right.” Rey stands up and starts down the hall towards her bedroom. “Tell him,” she calls over her shoulder. 

Before he can think too hard about it, Poe pulls out his phone to text Finn, but there’s already a message waiting for him. 

**PROFESSOR FINN - 10:42PM**   
I had a great time tonight, and please tell Rey it was nice to meet her. Also, what are you doing Thursday? I want to show you something.

* * *

“You’re taking me to a hill?” Poe casts a confused look towards FInn from the passenger seat.

“It’s not just any hill! It’s my  _ favorite _ hill.” Finn makes a right turn and the car starts climbing up a perfectly paved, but pitch dark, street. “You can see the entire city from it. It was supposed to be one of those fancy residential neighborhoods. You know, the ones full of too big homes and too many cars owned by people with too much money. But the housing market crashed right after they finished framing the first house. So now,” he rounds a final curve, “it’s just this.” He comes to a stop in front of the lone framed house and a massive “NEIGHBORHOOD COMING SOON! HOUSES STARTING IN THE $600Ks” signs. He turns off the car and looks excitedly at Poe. “You ready?” 

In answer, Poe smiles and pulls open the passenger door. Finn reaches in the backseat to grab some blankets and climbs out of the driver’s side door. “Come on. You’re going to love the view.” Finn struts confidently towards a spot in the grass and unfolds one of the blankets. Poe lingers behind, studying his movements. Their eyes are still adjusting to the complete darkness turning off the car’s headlights left them in, but Poe stares as if Finn’s under a spotlight. He walks toward him, reaching Finn just as he’s sitting down on the blanket. Poe’s getting ready to say something, but when he opens his mouth he looks out at the view and it’s breathtaking. 

“Holy shit,” he says.

“Right!” Finn says. “I’m pretty sure it’s one of the highest points in the city. You can see everything from here. And because the developers ran out of money before they could install street lights, it’s the only place in the city that gets dark enough for you to see anything. I like to sit up here when things feel too big or overwhelming. Seeing all the tiny buildings and specks of light reminds me that, in the grand scheme of things, we’re mere blips on the universe’s radar. Makes the bad things seem less bad.” 

“Yeah. I..I didn’t think I liked feeling small but this...just, wow, Finn.” Poe looks down on the city. He can see everything. The university, downtown, the hospital...the flight academy. The lights feel brighter from this height and it’s almost like he can feel the pulse of the city. Every little flash of light a sign of life. Of people living. They’re too high up to hear anything but some crickets and the slight breeze brushing through the grass but the silence is almost comforting. Finn’s right. Things seem less bad from up here.

“Sit down.” Finn pats a spot on the blanket next to him. Poe makes sure to leave a comfortable amount of space between them, but Finn immediately moves closer so their shoulders are touching and Poe’s body warms at the slight contact. They sit in silence for a few minutes, five, maybe ten, just looking down at the city before Finn speaks. 

“Why do we only talk about my work?” His voice isn’t angry or accusatory. He’s not hurt, either, but there’s a genuine curiosity behind the question. 

“What?” Poe turns towards Finn but meets his profile instead of his eyes. 

“I know I don’t really push us on anything but we only ever talk about my work. I’m thrilled you’re interested in what I do but...I don’t know...I just feel like we’re kind of just...coasting.” 

“Coasting.” Poe’s fighting to keep a neutrality to his voice, but he’s nervous. 

“Yeah. I mean, it’s fun! I love hanging out with you, but. I don’t know.” Finn shrugs and lets out a small sigh. His body language hasn’t changed. He still looks relaxed and calm but the energy has shifted. Finn’s clearly put thought into this and Poe wonders how long he’s wanted to ask it. Poe tries to answer but has a couple false starts before he can get there. 

“It’s not that I don’t want to talk about other stuff. It’s just kinda hard for me. LIke the panic attack stuff? Really the tip of the iceberg, there, but science? Space? That just seems...safe. Especially since you’ve seen me freak ou—”

“You didn’t freak out.” Finn interrupts. 

“...you know what I mean. I want to tell you more, Finn, I do, but I— “ 

“So tell me. I like “curious about astrophysics” Poe, but I also liked “knows a surprising amount about fighter jets” Poe.” Finn hesitates before the next sentence, hyper aware that he’s in fragile territory. “And I liked “panic attack” Poe, too. Not because you were anxious, obviously, but because I like all the parts of you and I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide any of them.” 

Poe tries to respond, but can’t. It’s so positively earnest and nice and not at all what he was expecting to be told tonight. Poe’s only ever known three other people that liked the whole of him and two of them are dead and he keeps trying to push Rey away. He never considered that there may be a fourth because he never considered that he’d do this. Like someone. Date someone. Want to be with someone. But here he is. On a hill in the dark with a man who doesn’t want him to be anything less than what he is. A man who thinks he deserves that. A man he wants. A man he wants to believe he deserves. 

The silence mostly holds for the rest of the night, but it’s an easy silence. At some point, they lie back on the blanket and Finn can’t help himself and points out a few of the stars. Their conversation is sparse, but gentle, and it feels safe up here away from the weight of the world. Eventually they get up to leave and, on the walk back to the car, Poe thinks he feels Finn reach out, just for a second, to grab his hand but he can’t be sure. The low hum of the radio keeps them company on the drive back into the city and, when they park in front of Poe’s place, this time, Finn’s movements are confident when he reaches for Poe’s hand as he’s stepping out of the car. Halfway through the door Poe looks back, the slightest look of fear on his face. His eyes travel first t0 their interlocked hands and next to Finn’s face. 

“Thanks for tonight. You pick the place next time. I wanna see your favorite spot in the city too.” Finn gives his hand a slight squeeze before releasing it. “Goodnight, Poe.” Finn says with a smile. 

“Goodnight,” Poe squeaks out and practically runs to his front door. 

That man is going to be the death of him.

* * *

Poe can’t believe he’s convinced Finn to show up. It’s a week and some change after the night on the hill and Finn hadn’t let up about wanting to see his favorite place. The second he’d said it in the car a rush of panic ran through Poe.His favorite place? No. He can’t take Finn there. Not yet. Poe hasn’t visited in years. Not since the day of her funeral.

* * *

He remembers the first time she showed it to him like it was yesterday. He’d just finished his first successful solo flight and was ecstatic and Leia was beaming. She’d always treated Poe like her son, but that day he was the golden boy. The entire walk there he was at a ten - rambling and jumping and shouting. “But did you SEE ME?! I was AMAZING. Handsome AND a grade-A pilot.” Leia, as ever, kept him humble, reminding him it was one test flight in the academy and that the true test comes on the battlefield, when half your fleet’s been grounded, your comms are fried, and plans a, b, c, and d failed within two minutes. By the time she’d knocked his ego back down to size, they’d arrived. He’d heard about Leia’s secret oasis of course, all the flight students had, but no one ever thought they’d actually get to see it. But here Poe was, standing in the middle of it. It was less of an oasis and more of a grassy opening in the middle of the woods. What made it so impressive, though, is that the woods were rather dead. Nothing grew or thrived and the trees were as bare bones as they could get while still constituting a forest. “I found it after I aced  _ my  _ first flight test. I come here whenever I’m stressed or tired or just need to be reminded of who I am. I hope you do the same. When you need to remember who you are. Who you came from.” Leia had grabbed Poe’s hands at that point, looking at him with the same amount of love his mom had. “She’d be so proud of you, Poe.” No. Poe couldn’t take Finn there. It was too personal. Too close. Even though Finn made it clear he wants to know all the parts of Poe. Regardless of how messy they might be. When he’d told Finn to meet him at Blake’s, he thought for sure Finn would call his bluff and tell him to stop being so guarded and hold things a little bit further from the chest. But, instead, Finn just smiled at him and said “9 o’clock?”

* * *

Poe gets there early, of course. He needs at least 10 minutes before Finn, obsessively punctual, shows up for the tequila shot he’ll never admit to taking to kick in and calm his nerves. Nine is almost adorably early for a weekend but it means Poe can linger at the bar with a clear shot to the door without being in anyone’s way. He’s just about to check his watch to see if he has time for one more relaxation shot when Finn walks in. Poe’s chest tightens and the air suddenly feels thinner. Finn glances around the bar for a few seconds but the second his eyes catch Poe’s, his face lights up. 

Finn walks towards him confidently and Poe clenches and releases his fists, willing his muscles to relax. 

“So your favorite place is a bar, then?” Finn asks with a smirk. So he  _ is  _ calling him on his bluff.

“Oh you know I love a good party!” 

Finn doesn’t reply but just stares, smirk shifting into a slight smile, at Poe. It’s somehow already too much emotion too early in the night and Poe nearly knocks the napkin caddy over when he turns too fast to order a drink. 

“Uh yeah can we get two shots of tequila, please?” He asks the bartender, mentally willing him to pretend this is the first time they’ve interacted tonight.

“So it’s that kind of night, hey, Dameron? Excuse me? Yeah, can you make it three? I’ve got some catching up to do.” 

Poe looks at Finn, who is looking back at him smug and proud, and hands the bartender his card. “Hm. You know me well.”

“Not well enough if you won’t show me your favorite place...but that means we’ll just do it another day. But come on, then. Shots all around.” Before Poe can come up with a response Finn throws back both of his shots and looks at Poe. 

“Come on, Dameron. We’re dancing.”

* * *

It’s many hours and many more shots later and they’re still at it. Turns out that Finn is handsy, flirty drunk and Poe relishes it. It’s like all the confidence he usually reserves for talking about the TRAPPIST-1 planetary system or whatever else it is that Poe can’t understand comes out in full force with a little bit of tequila and top 40. They’re laughing and dancing, completely lost in each other and the energy of the crowd. Blake’s is packed now but their eyes never waver from one another despite, much to their respective chagrin, numerous advances. The music is so loud and sweaty bodies press against each other, the walls, anywhere there’s space, but no one minds. It’s pure joy and revelry and Poe is happier than he’s been in a long time. When his brain tries to tell him he’s always happier when Finn’s around he shakes the thought from his head. He can’t go there, not now. He just has to enjoy this moment for what it is and remind himself that, regardless of what Finn said on the hill, he’ll have to let Finn go eventually, but when the DJ transitions from “Honky Cat” to Carly Rae Jepsen’s “For Sure” he let’s the thought linger a bit longer. He knows he’ll have to let go of Finn eventually...but not tonight.

He grabs Finn and pulls him closer as they sway to the music. Poe’s laughing, knows he’s being reckless now but he can’t help himself. Finn presses their foreheads together and things feel almost too right when his hands find themselves at Poe’s hips. They’re probably moving slower than the beat dictates but they don’t care, they’re lost in each other. It’s a lot and Poe squeezes his eyes shut against the feelings rising in his chest. But Finn, goddammit Finn, pulls him closer. Gently. Their lips hover over each other and it would barely take any effort for Poe to close what little space remains. But he can’t. He can’t. Not tonight. Not ever. He pulls away suddenly and harshly. “Sorry, I just need some air.” 

Finn, standing in the middle of the dance floor, watches him go. 

That man is going to be the death of him.

* * *

Finn doesn’t come into the coffee shop the next day. Or the day after that. Or the day after that. If Poe had worked up enough courage to text or call him he probably wouldn’t have answered those either. Poe doesn’t blame him, of course, not after the stunt he’d pulled at the bar. Finn had been so big and bold and it was all just too much too fast. So Poe ran. Like he always does. Leia always called him out for it. Once, after he’d instigated a particularly bad breakup for a particularly dumb reason he’d called Leia.

“She’s always been unreasonable but I realized I couldn’t take it any-”

“If you don’t shut up I’m going to hang up on you. She’s not being unreasonable. You’re scared. You always get scared that someone might mean something to you so you leave before they can. If you don’t care you can’t lose them.” 

“Oh come on! That’s not it at all!” 

“Then what is it?”

“It’s just...it’s that...” 

“It’s that you think you can protect yourself if you never let anyone in. And, sure, you can. But that’s a lonely way to live a life, Poe. That’s a lonely way to exist.” 

He’s replaying that conversation in his head again and again when the door to the shop dings. He looks up, donning his customer service smile, and his chest tightens. 

Finn. 

They watch each other as Finn walks to the counter. 

“I figured if I waited for you to come to me I’d be waiting forever. Running away’s more your thing, ey?” 

Okay that’s fair. 

“I’m sorry. Listen. I can explain. Or at least I can try. If you’ll let me? I get off in an hour. Please, Finn.” 

The silence feels interminable. 

“Can I at least get a drink while I wait?” There’s that smirk again. 

Poe makes Finn’s drink and refuses to let him pay. Poe fumbles his way through the remaining hour of his shift, planning out what he’s going to say and how he’s going to explain himself. When four o’clock comes around he’s sure he knows exactly what he wants to say. 

Of course, all of that unravels the second he walks up to Finn. 

“Hey, you ready?” Poe says with what little confidence he could muster. 

“Yeah, sure. How about we take a walk? Feels weird to do this here.” 

They walk in silence for about three blocks, Poe clenching and unclenching his fists, Finn almost unnervingly calm. Finally, Finn breaks the silence. 

“Why did you take me there? To Blake’s?” 

“What?” The question catches Poe off guard. It’s a valid one, sure, but Poe was expecting more of a “Why did you run out on me in the middle of a date after flirting with me during said date and most, if not all, prior interactions between the two of us?” 

“Why did you take me to Blake’s?” Finn’s tone is gentle, not accusatory. He suspected, how could he not?, that Poe had wanted to take him somewhere else but couldn’t or wouldn’t. And even now he isn’t mad. Just curious. 

Poe lets out a deep sigh before continuing. “Um. I didn’t...I...can we sit?” Poe quickens his pace to grab a seat on the stoop ahead of them.

“Yeah, ‘course.” Finn sits down, turning towards Poe for a second, before shifting to create a bit more space between them. He knows what happens when he gets too close. 

Poe rubs his palms on his thighs, his leg bouncing up and down. 

"Hey," Finn reaches a hand out before quickly retracting it. "We don't have to do this now. Or at all. It's fine, really." 

"No. No. It’s not fine. You deserve an explanation. I know you do. There's so much I want to tell you, Finn, believe me."

They aren't looking at each other. 

"I want to, Dameron, I do. But you make it hard." 

"I know. It's kind of my thing."

"I could make it easier. For a while there...it...kind of seemed like you wanted me to. I meant what I said on the hill. That I don’t want you to hide yourself from me. Any of you." Finn is taking a risk, and he knows it. He’s nervous and knows he’s approaching a point of no return, but he can’t take it anymore. Up until that night on the hill, Poe had been so forthright and confident. Flirty and forward and direct. But then, when Finn tried to reciprocate, everything shattered. He wants to know what went wrong. He deserves to know, doesn’t he?

"Yeah," Poe lets out another sigh. 

The silence hangs between them for what felt like hours. Poe knows he has to be the one to break it. 

"I didn't want to take you to Blake's. At least, not that night. I mean I do love that place but it's not…there's this place that I wanted to take you, instead, but after the hill and what you said, I couldn't. I mean," Poe knew he wasn't making any sense, "I could but...it was just that. After that night on the hill, I couldn't pretend anymore. I couldn't pretend I didn't want you. That I don't want you. And I was terrified of what that meant. I  _ am  _ terrified. If I took you to where I actually wanted to take you, I was certain that you'd run away. And I couldn't take that. I couldn't handle that. Basically everyone I've ever cared about is gone now and I couldn't stand the thought of you leaving, too, I and just-" 

"So you just ran instead? You were so certain that I'd leave you didn't even give me the opportunity to stay." Finn's voice is angry, now. Quiet, but angry. 

"What? Finn, no! That's not it!" 

"No, but it is it, yeah? You've been flirting with me, leading me on for months. We’ve been hanging out and going on dates and everything and then I finally take the risk, I finally try to meet you where you are, and you run?"

"No! I mean, yes...but, Finn that's not it, I promise.” Things are rapidly escalating and Poe is grasping at every possible straw to bring them back down. But it’s a lost cause. Finn’s hurt. “Please, let me explain.”

"Explain what? That you're hurt and sad and broken? That you've lost a lot of people by fate or by chance or by choice and you're damaged goods now? That you're impossible to love? Or to want? Or unworthy of it? Grow the fuck up, Dameron. You're not that fucking special. We've ALL been hurt. We've ALL lost people. We're ALL damaged. Your problem isn't that you're unwanted. It's that, even when someone is sitting here on a random stoop, telling you that you're wanted, telling you that THEY want you, you refuse to believe them. Thanks for the other night and the coffee, but I think it's best we both move on." 

Before Poe can say anything Finn pushes himself off the stoop and jogs across the street. Poe just sits there in shock and in silence but he’s not mad. He can’t be. Sure, what Finn said hurt, but that wasn't the worst part. 

The worst part is that it’s true.


	14. Chapter 14

_ *This is Finn. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you.*  _

“Hey. It’s me. It’s, uh, Poe. But you probably...knew that. Listen I’m...it’s Poe. FUCK. “

* _ This is Finn. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you.* _

“Hey. It’s me. Poe. I just wanted to let you know… No not that.”

* _ This is Finn. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you.*  _

“Finn! Hey! Hi. It’s me. Poe. Poe Dameron! Nope, too weird.”

_ *This is Finn. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you.* _

“Finn. It’s me. Please…”

_ *This is Finn. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you.* _

_ *This is Finn. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you.* _

_ *This is Finn. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you.* _

_ *This is Finn. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you.* _

_ *This is Finn. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you.* _

_ *This is Finn. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you.* _

_ *This is Finn. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you.* _

  
  


**Mailbox Full. Goodbye.**


	15. Chapter 15

**_*You have. Eleven. Underheard messages. First unheard message left. Today. at. Four thirty-seven. PM.*_ **

“Hey. It’s me. It’s, uh, Poe. But you probably...knew that. Listen I’m...it’s Poe. FUCK. “

*** _Message deleted. You have. Ten. Unheard messages. First unheard message left. Today. at. Four thirty-eight. PM.*_**

“Hey. It’s me. Poe. I just wanted to let you know… No not that.”

*** _Message deleted. You have. Nine. Unheard messages. First unheard message left. Today. At. Four thirty-eight. PM. *_**

“Finn! Hey! Hi. It’s me. Poe. Poe Dameron! Nope, too weird.”

**_*Message deleted. You have. Eight. Unheard messages. First unheard message left. Today. At. Four thirty-nine. PM.*_ **

“Fi-” 

**_*Message deleted. You have. Sev-.*_ **

**_*Message deleted. You have. Six.*_ **

**_*Message deleted. You have. Five.*_ **

**_*Message deleted. You have. Four.*_ **

**_*Message deleted. You have. Three.*_ **

**_*Message deleted. You have. Two.*_ **

**_*Message deleted. You have. One.*_ **

  
*** _Message deleted. No new messages.*_**


	16. Chapter 16

*This is Poe. Leave it at the beep.*

“Please don’t call me again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise they will be happy in the end


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! i am writing things at a snail's pace which was not my intention but it's where we are; however, things are starting to unfold and advance in so hopefully that's exciting! we're growing and processing and grieving, etc. endless thank yous to your endless patience as I crawl my way through this story. I hope you all had a lovely december and i'll see ya when I see ya. ilysm & tysm bye!

Rey walks into the apartment to find Poe on the couch, scrolling through Netflix. He doesn’t react to the door closing or to Rey accidentally dropping her keys when she goes to put them on the hook. He’s just. There. She sighs deeply. It’s been like this for a few weeks now and the tension and stress in the air makes being in the same room for any amount of time almost impossible. Rey knows that _something_ happened, that much is more than clear, but Poe has refused to tell her anything. After about three or four days of radio silence Rey tried to broach the topic but was shut down. She tried again a few days later to no avail - then days turned into weeks and then into today. And she’s tired. It’s not just today, of course, their whole friendship for the past few years has been strained, but she’s exhausted. They're both just so exhausted.

“Hey, how was work?” Rey asks, kicking off her shoes. 

“Fine.” Poe doesn’t stop scrolling through the home screen or even look up from the tv. His voice is hard. 

“Great! So..uh..” Rey takes off her jacket and fiddles with it in her hands. Today's as good as any for this, she guesses. “I was thinking we could have dinner? Tonight? I can cook. We haven’t really talked much lately. I know you’ve been busy with work and I’ve been at the shop and everything but I’d love to catch up! Hear about Finn?” She’s forcing optimism and normalcy into her voice.

“Sure. Nothing to hear though.”

Rey's hands still. "Oh. Did... some....what happened? You can talk to me, you know." Her tone is small and measured, like someone trying to coax a scared animal from under a house. 

"Fucked it up." 

"I'm sure you didn't-" 

"Nope! Did! Fucked it up. I'm sure you know that feeling. Fucked up with you loads of times." 

Rey's shoulders sink and she lets out a sigh. She thinks about how tired she is, how tired _they_ are, and she's had it. No more walking on eggshells. No more treading carefully. That's gotten them exactly nowhere but here. She walks to her room, throws her jacket on the floor, and changes into the softest joggers she owns. She heads back towards the living room before doubling back to the kitchen and grabbing a beer, taking a long drink before heading back down the hall. Poe glances toward her when she walks back into the living room. She sits on the opposite end of the couch, curling her legs underneath her and facing Poe. 

"So how'd you fuck it up?" She's staring straight and Poe's profile, heat in her eyes. 

"What?" 

"Finn. You said you fucked it up, didn't you? So how?" 

Poe doesn't move and doesn't answer. He just keeps flipping through the home screen on Netflix. Flip. Flip. Flip. Rey lets out a sharp, short laugh and takes another sip of her beer. Okay, fine, she thinks. Game on. 

"Well, know I know how you got his attention in the first place. What with such a stellar communicator you've become in the past few years." 

"I thought you wanted to talk over dinner?" 

"I did. But then I figured, what would a tray of lasagna or whatever really help? You hardly talk to me anymore. And, don't get me wrong, I'm a good cook but probably not good enough to pull the stick out of your ass." 

Poe's head whips around towards Rey. "What'd you say?" 

"Well look at that ladies and gentlemen! Eye contact!! Poe Dameron has once again made eye contact!" 

"What the fuck is your problem, Rey?" 

"I don't know? What's yours? I'd LOVE to know." Her eyes are steely as she takes a long drink of her beer.

“I don’t have a problem.” 

“Then turn off the tv and talk to me.” 

Poe scoffs. “You’re mad I won’t talk to you so your plan is to force me to talk to you? Why does that seem to be everyone's plan?” 

“I’m not forcing you; I’m asking you.”

“Sounds a lot like forcing.” 

“Well, then, fine! I’m forcing you, Poe! Forgive me for the egregious sin of being interested in your life and feelings.” 

“But are you actually interested, Rey? Are you? Because with the way you act around me now...it doesn’t seem that way.”

“Are you serious?” Rey’s face pulls into a mix of confusion and thinly veiled frustration. Poe just shrugs in response.

Rey sets her beer down on the floor and scrubs her hands across her face. “I guess there’s no way to do this delicately so...what the FUCK are you talking about? The way I act around you? How am I acting, Poe? Please. Enlighten me.” 

“Oh come on, Rey,” Poe, finally, turns off the tv and turns towards her, “don’t do that. Don’t pretend. Ever since Leia died you’ve been different. Tiptoeing around me, barely talking. You’ve been pissed off at me for years."

“Oh that’s bullshit and you know it. I’m not pissed off at you. I’m WORRIED about you.” 

“Worried?! That’s what you call this?” Poe squares his body towards Rey, leaning forward in challenge. “That why you leave the house every time I have therapy?” 

“You haven’t had it in weeks so what does it matter?” Rey matches Poe’s glare, but relaxes a bit into her seat. If they’re doing this, she figures, may as well get comfortable.

"Nice, Rey. Real nice."

"What?! I don't leave because I'm uncomfortable I leave to give you space. I leave because I don't know how else to support you because every other time I've asked you how in the past you haven't known how to answer. And that's fine. It really is, but I don't know what else to do. I'm trying. And I'm sorry if it's wrong or not good enough or it makes you feel fragile or vulnerable or whatever, but FUCK." 

"No, please, keep going. The floor is all yours." Poe gestures broadly with his arms.

Their argument continues to escalate, neither of them pulling any punches. They’re barely restraining themselves from yelling, but that’s probably little consolation to the neighbor who shares their wall. They’ve been building towards this for months now, probably years, avoiding conversations, treading lightly. Hell, walking on eggshells would have been a step up for them based on the delicate stepping they’ve grown accustomed to. But that’s the thing about deferring payments and trying to avoid the inevitable. Eventually the bill always comes due. 

“You know what, Rey?” Poe lets out a sharp, short laugh and turns to face her. He’d started pacing the living room a few minutes ago. ”Why don’t you just tell me what you want me to say and how you want me to act and we’ll go from there, yeah?” 

“What I want. Is for you to stop acting like an asshole. What I want. Is for us to be able to have one conversation, one _real_ conversation, without one or both of us needing to get drunk to do it.” She’s overemphasizing her words, getting louder. “What I want. Poe. Is for you to admit your feelings or, really, ANY feelings. About anything! What I want is my friend back.” 

“Ding! Ding! Ding! And there it is!” Poe throws his hands up in mock victory. “You don’t care about me, you just want me back to normal.” 

“Yeah! Poe! Of _COURSE_ I do.” Rey pushes herself off the couch, but stops short of crowding his space. “I want you back to normal because I want you to be yourself again. Because this,” she waves her hands in his direction, “this angry, closed-off, combative version? That’s not you, Poe.” 

“What if it is, huh?” His voice is louder, too, both of them losing any pretense of trying to keep quiet. “What if this is me, now? Angry. Closed off. Combative. What then.” 

“It’s not.” Louder. 

“But what if it is?" Even louder. 

“Why do you want it to be? How is that easier?” 

"BECAUSE I'M GRIEVING, REY.”

"AND YOU THINK I DON'T KNOW THAT?!" 

Despite the low ceilings and small space, their voices seem to echo and there’s enough electricity in the air that it could power the whole block. Poe manages to hold Rey’s gaze for a few seconds before blinking back the tears that are starting to accumulate. He hangs his head and his body closes in on itself as he sits down on the coffee table. His hands come up to hide his face, but not before Rey sees a few tears make their escape. Immediately all the fight leaves Rey’s body.

"Poe." Her voice is quiet now. She kneels in front of him but stops short of touching him; her hands hover awkwardly by his elbows. "I know you're grieving. I know. Your mom. Leia. I know. And I’m so, so sorry. But you can't just keep all this pain bottled up inside you, Poe, or it will eat you alive. The grief will eat you alive. I’ve been there. After my parents...it ate me alive. Made me feel like I was nothing, would never have anyone. It made me feel like I didn't have an identity. A name. And I know it's hard. It's so fucking hard. Just getting your feet to touch the floor feels like running a marathon, some days. I'd be lying if I said that goes away because it doesn't, not completely. But you have to find ways to keep going." 

Rey's hands reach out to gingerly touch Poe's arms. She’s looking at his face but his eyes are still covered. "Poe. Look at me. Please.” 

He hesitates for a few seconds but drops his hands, reaching for Rey’s. His eyes are still downcast, but Rey gives his hands a small squeeze of encouragement, not enough to apply any real pressure, but enough to be reassuring. He lifts only his gaze first, finding Rey’s eyes through his eyelashes. “What if I can't, though, Rey? What if I can't keep going?" 

Rey squeezes his hands a little bit harder and Poe closes the small space between them, resting his forehead on hers.

"I just miss them so much.” 

“I know.” 

Poe slowly raises his head and it's the first time Rey's gotten to look at him, really look at him, in god knows how long. His eyes are sunken in and his skin is sallow. He looks nervous and scared but mostly he just looks...tired. 

“I don’t know what to do with it all. The hurt. It feels like there’s just so much of it and I don’t know how to contain it all.” 

"I don't either. Hell, none of us do, but you don't have to try and contain it alone."

"You did it alone. After your parents..."

"No, Poe, I didn't. I thought I was but I wasn't. And I was angry for a long time, too. I don't want you to think the anger is bad. But it's not sustainable. But I really, really didn't do it alone. I found you, I found help. That's how I did it. That's how I'm doing it every single day. With help." 

Poe's just staring at her. He doesn't know what to say and he feels almost numb. There's no anger right now. No frustration. No fight. He opens his mouth to try and respond, but he can't. Rey got help, he thinks. She _found_ help. Therapy? he wants to ask and, again, he can't but it turns out he doesn't have to.

"I know I should have told you before now and I don't know why I didn't. I really really should have but....I'm sorry. I..." She takes a deep breath and starts again." Listen. I. With my parents, they were people I didn’t have a chance to know and that didn't take their chance to know me. But you, Poe, they knew you. You know them. You get to keep them alive, if you want to. Leia. Your mom. They're a part of you."

"Yeah, I know, it's just…" Poe sighs. He's so so tired. 

"I know."

"Rey." He sighs and leans forward again, this time pulling her into a hug. She tenses at first—it’s been ages since they’ve done this—but then settles into the contact, wrapping her arms around him in return. "I'm so sorry, Rey." 

"You don't-"

"No, I do. I'm so sorry." He pulls her tighter, holds her closer. "And thank you."


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember way back in the early chapters when I wrote in a sub-plot of Finn presenting to the board for research funding in order keep his job (I do not work in academia and I don't know how anything works I'm sorry) and then immediately forgot about it and so I never touched on it again? Well we have circled back to that!! Yes, the timeline of the story is probably fucked up now but given I've been unable to accurately perceive time since the pandemic started/forever, I hope you'll look past the fact that that part of this chapter should have probably happened, mm, idk, chapter 5? (but when I outlined this story I quoted the entire thing at~15k soo...brevity, who?) Anyway!! There is so much more here than the science, and it's not the focus of the chapter so I hope that makes it easier to overlook this mistakes. We're still trucking along with this story and I'm so thankful you're still here along for the ride with me. ilysm and every second you spend here is greatly appreciated. 
> 
> P.s. thank you so much to nasa for putting your missions online, anything vaguely science-y here is all thanks to them and if you're reading this and happen to be familiar with the inner workings of jupiter's magnetosphere or the cassini mission to saturn...please forgive me.

Poe's obeyed Finn's wishes and hasn't called. It's been about six weeks since Poe tried to explain himself, almost eight since the night at Blake's. And all of that would be fine, it really would be, if Finn didn't miss the shit out of him.

Finn knows it was his idea to cut contact and knows that phones also work both ways but he's still upset. And, admittedly, embarrassed. He was rejected, or at least it feels like he was. Every night the scene plays on loops as he tries to sleep. The music, Poe pulling their bodies closer, Finn leaning in...and then “Sorry..I just need some air." And then... _ god _ ...and then the conversation on the stoop. He knows that he’s allowed to be disappointed that things didn’t magically fall into place, but he also knows that feelings aren’t facts. It felt like rejection, it hurt like rejection, but was it? He’s ignored the part of his brain that’s yelled ‘no’ for the past two months. Wake up, get ready, go to work, don’t think about Poe. It’s that simple. The coffee’s worse. But it’s that simple.

* * *

“FUCK.” Finn leans back in his chair, scrubbing his hands over his face. He’s so close to the finish line and, while he wouldn’t say he’s panicking, he’s far more stressed than he’d like to be 48 hours out from the board meeting. He glances at the clock again. 9:45pm. He stares at the numbers and let’s his mind wander again to Poe. The night on the hill. The nights in the coffee shop. The museum. And then Blake’s. And then the voicemails. And then. “Please don’t call me again.” 

“Goddammit, I’m such an idiot,” he sighs as he rests his forehead on his desk.

A small knock on his office’s door frame startles his head up and his mind back to the present. Who else would it be but Rose? 

“You okay?” She leans in the doorway, crossing her arms. Her eyes are soft and her brows have the slightest knot of tension between them. She’s worried, but the concern on her face is nearly imperceptible that, if you don’t know her, it wouldn’t read as concern at all. But it’s been a long time since she and Finn could hide their emotions from each other. 

Finn’s head tilts to the side in mild annoyance. “I’m fine, Tico. Just...resting my eyes or whatever.” 

“Okay.” She doesn’t move, doesn’t relax. Just keeps looking. Then. “Have you eaten?” 

It’s a dumb question because they both know the answer is no. Finn always has to be reminded to eat when he’s stressed. When they were roommates it was easier - Rose silently setting a plate of food on his desk while he worked - but now it takes a bit more maneuvering - the last time he got like this, during the submissions process for a science journal - she had food delivered to his house everyday for a week, a text of “thank you, but really, I was going to take care of it” coming through every time. Today, Finn just looks back at her blankly. 

“I had a granola bar a few hours ago.” 

“How many hours ago?” Her expression is still gentle, neutral.

“Um...You know...that’s the funny thing about time. It can just fly by." H e waves one of his hands in a noncommittal gesture before reaching to massage his shoulder. He’s been hunched in this chair since six this morning and his body is feeling every second of that time.

“Okay, we’re ordering pizza.” Rose steps in the room, grabbing her phone from her pocket as she crosses to the chairs in front of his desk. 

“Rose, I appreciate it, I do, but I have to finish this.” He gestures hopelessly to his computer. 

“And you will! And then when the pizza gets here, we’ll eat.” She kicks her shoes off and curls up into the chair. “I brought headphones so I can keep myself occupied and,” she roots around in an interior jacket pocket and sets a can on the desk, “this.” It’s an energy drink and, judging by the number of identical cans scattered on Finn’s desk, one he doesn’t need, but is grateful for anyway. “I know I can make you eat but I can’t make you go to sleep so if you’re staying up anyway, you should at least have all your electrolytes.” 

“Thank you, Rose. Seriously.”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s what I’m here for. Now work. Pizza’ll be here in 20.” Rose settles a bit deeper into her seat, getting as comfortable as the chair will allow. Finn’s fingers start across the keyboard as a jolt of energy runs through his body. He may have fucked things up with Poe but he still has Rose. He’d like to have both, but...no, stop. He shakes Poe from his head once more and takes a deep breath. Focus. He can do this. Focus. He glances at Rose and smiles, but his face quickly falls into a look of confusion. 

“Wait.” Rose pulls out one of her earpieces and looks at him. “How did you know I was here? I mean I know I don’t go many places-” 

“I track your location; do your work.” The comment is nonchalant and matter of fact. She puts the earpiece back in and reverts her attention to her phone. 

“Of course you do, Tico.” He says quietly, a small smile behind the words.

* * *

By the time the pizza arrives, Finn has finalized the edits on the back third of the paper and finished the corresponding presentation slides. A full read through, a final  _ final  _ edit, and a couple of practice presentation rounds and he’ll be gainfully employed for the next two years. Hopefully. Rose pushes through his office door, a slice of pepperoni already hanging out of her mouth, balancing two large boxes of pizza, a liter of soda, and a bag of what smells like garlic rolls in her arms. Finn’s eyebrows raise in shock, “Um…?” 

“What?” Rose shrugs while clumsily setting the food down, “I had a coupon.” 

Finn laughs and clears some more desk space, moving slowly in an attempt to delay the inevitable. He knows the second they start eating Rose''ll ask about Poe. It's not why she showed up here tonight but it's only natural that she wants to know. A part of him desperately wants her to ask...it's a reason to think about him, talk about him...but the rest of him knows that he'll have to tell Rose the truth, all of it. And that? Well that he doesn't want to think about. He feels Rose’s eyes shifting back and forth between the boxes and his face and the air grows thicker with tension as her unasked questions hang in the room. “Um, I’m gonna go grab some paper towels,” Finn says, pushing up from his desk and walking quickly out of the room. 

He shoves through the bathroom door and runs the tap as cold as he can, splashing handfuls of water on his face. “Come on, Finn. It’s Rose. You can talk to Rose.” He shuts off the tap and grabs a paper towel, tries to focus on the feel of industrial, scratchy paper fibers on his skin as he dries his face. He inhales deeply, the smell of damp cardboard filling his nostrils. He tosses the paper towel in the trash can between the sinks and looks at himself once more in the mirror. In no time Poe’s in his head again. Finn smiles as memories of Poe float through his mind - the way his eyes crinkle at the edges when he smiles, the sound of his laugh as it echoes through the empty coffee shop as they close - “Dammit, Finn. Never could get out of your own way, could you?” Finn takes another deep breath then grabs a handful of paper towels from the dispenser and walks back to his office.

He gets back to the office and hands Rose some paper towels. She flips open the boxes. “So we’ve got pepperoni, obviously, and then sausage and olives on the other one.” They silently serve themselves, using a bundle of napkins as makeshift plates, and then settle back in their seats - Finn in his desk chair, Rose in the one she first claimed, the desk between them. The silence, and with it, tension, extends as they chew their food, occasionally looking up to glance at one another. They both know what conversation they’re avoiding. It’s true that Finn is stressed out but it’s also true that the last time he talked to Rose about Poe, or even so much as mentioned his name around her, was the night of Blake’s. He tells himself he doesn’t want to bother her, doesn’t want to bum her out with his own relationship mess when hers is going so well with Jannah. But that’s not really it. At first it was his ego that got in the way - being left on the dancefloor hurts no matter what the reasoning is - then it was frustration, then sadness, and then...well then it was eight weeks later. And now? Now the whole thing just feels too embarrassing to talk about at all. Rose, to her credit, hasn’t pushed him on the point and has let their conversations in the intervening weeks revolve around anything but Poe. Still, Finn knows he should talk to her about it,  _ wants  _ to, even, but it’s hard. Still, though, he hopes she asks.

And she does. Finn nearly sighs in relief when Rose is the one who blinks first. She still eases into it, though.

“So...how do you feel about the board presentation?” She’s genuinely looking at him now, a sign that they’re no longer dancing around the elephant in the room. 

Finn sets his slice down and wipes his hands. He sighs as he reaches back to massage his neck, his head rolling back and forth a few times as if all the tension in his body immediately returned to his shoulders at the question. “Yeah, no, I feel alright about it. The paper’s in a good place, I know it is, but I just always psych myself out on shit like this.” 

“I get it. It’s your job and your work, it’d be weird if you didn’t care. But I’m sure you’ll be great. And if not...well...I’m sure that coffee shop down the block’s hiring?” She raises her eyebrows in a look of faux innocence.

“Subtle as a grenade, Tico.” 

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to! But...I know this presentation isn’t the only thing bothering you.” 

Finn leans back in his chair, face skyward. He inhales deeply and closes his eyes. The smell of garlic and grease fills his nostrils, his emotions acute and sharp. He lets out a breathy “yeah” as he exhales. He’s still not looking at Rose, but he hears her close the boxes and set the food on the floor. She scoots her chair closer to the desk, the fabric of her jacket brushing softly against the smooth wood of the desk as she rests her forearms on it. “You can tell me, Finn. I’m not judging you.” 

“Nah; I’m judging myself.” Finn sits up and readjusts his chair, mirroring Rose’s position from his side of the desk. Their hands are almost touching and Finn’s shift slightly forward, nearly grabbing hers. For years now Rose has been his anchor, steadying him when it felt like he couldn’t find his footing. He hesitates again but this time Rose catches it and closes the distance herself, taking his hands in her own and giving him a firm, reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay, Finn, I’m right here. Tell me what happened.” 

“Okay. Well. We had our date, yeah? I took him to the hill and..I mean it was simple we just talked but it was so nice. He’s so genuine, Rose. And smart. And,  _ god,  _ his laugh. It’s infectious.” Finn’s face lights up at the thought and Rose gives his hands another small squeeze. 

“Did you kiss him?” 

Finn’s face falls and he shakes his head. “Uh, no. I should’ve. When I dropped him off that night I should have. I wanted to.” He pulls his hands from Rose’s and leans back in his chair again pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. ”And maybe if I had I wouldn’t have gotten upset later, pushed him away, told him to leave me alone. Or maybe all of that shit would have still happened but maybe this time he wouldn’t have listened. He’s so stubborn, too. And the one time I wish it’d kick in..the one time I really, really wish he’d ignore what I said and insist he’s right..he doesn’t.”

Rose looks at him and her heart aches for her friend. She knows he deserves the world, but he’s never quite let himself have it. Work is different. Nothing has ever gotten in the way of Finn going after what he wants at work. But happiness? True happiness? Heart racing, cheek aching happiness? Finn’s always stopped just short of letting himself have that. Rose opens her mouth to speak, but closes it again. She’s never chosen her words so carefully in her life. 

“Finn.” 

He doesn’t move. 

“Finn, look at me. Please?” 

It takes him a few more seconds but then his hands fall away from his face. He hangs his head at first, hands resting on the edge of his desk. Another couple of seconds pass before he scoots closer and lifts his head to look at Rose.

“You don’t have to tell me every single detail. And, again, we don’t have to talk about it all, but I’d like to help. If I can. What do you mean you got upset and pushed him away?” Her voice is soft and delicate, so unlike Rose, or at least the parts of Rose she lets most people see. 

Finn sighs again - his arms cross over his chest, his right hand reaching up to nervously mess with his ear. He sinks further in the chair, anxiousness causing him to make himself smaller. His gaze starts to wander as he talks, but he feels Rose’s eyes laser-focused on him. “So. After the hill, I told him I wanted to see his favorite spot. He took me to Blake’s, that kinda dive-y club over in Midtown? Anyway. I knew it wasn’t his favorite place - how could it be, right? - or at least not favorite like that. Like...vulnerable favorite. But I didn’t care, not really, I just wanted to be with him. And it was going so well. It really was. Or I thought it was. It was. Wasn’t it? Whatever, I just tried to go for it. I leaned in and he. Didn’t. He didn’t lean in and then he just...left.”

“Oh, Finn, I'm so sorry. That..that hurts. Did you talk at all? Afterwards, I mean.” 

“Kind of. I went to see him at work a few days after; it was bad idea - I was still upset, my ego was still bruised. He tried to explain himself. He apologized and I accused him of leading me on and being too scared to go for it and...I don’t know. It all kind of fell apart. He tried calling a few times and I sent them all to voicemail. Then I told him to stop calling at all and he…” 

“Listened?” 

“Yep. Your best friends an idiot, Rose. What can I say?” 

“You’re not an idiot, Finn. Well. At least not because of this.” 

Finn cuts his eyes at Rose and finds her smiling at him and smiles back despite himself. She leans forward and rests her chin in one hand. “Question. Did you talk to Poe?” 

“I just said we did.” 

“I don’t mean after Blake’s. I mean in general. Did the two of you talk?” 

Finn can see the road Rose is trying to take him down and a part of him is tempted to turn around and go back home but a much larger part of him knows he needs to put the car in gear and drive - no matter how much it might suck. 

“Yeah...course we did. I mean we hung out kind of a lot it’d be hard not to talk.” 

“Mmhmm and what’d you talk about?” Rose’s expression is obnoxiously neutral and her tone casual - the same way it always is when she knows she’s right. 

“You know. The normal stuff. Work… Our friends…” 

“Your fear of connection…” 

“What.” Finn’s eyes go wide. “I do NOT have a fear of connection.”

“Yes. You absolutely do. It’s an observation, not a judgment. I mean, look at us! You didn’t wanna open up and were scared to get close to me and I wasn’t even trying to date you.” 

“Oh yeah? Then why’d you make out with me the first time we hung out?” 

“First of all, I make out with all my friends; it’s natural, normal, and healthy. And second of all, don’t change the subject. I get it, being vulnerable is scary especially when you’ve lived most of your life alone.” Finn winces at the indirect mention of his childhood. “It's scary enough when you're just trying to make friends, worse when you want more. But you are capable of getting there. You just gotta talk about something other than space.” 

“But we’re good at talking about space. It works for us.” 

“It doesn’t really look like it has.” 

Finn tilts his head back up towards the ceiling and scrubs his hands over his face. “Fuck.” 

“Listen. You can obviously do whatever you want and I’ll support you in it, but you miss him. Clearly. So, maybe, just maybe, you can hear him out? Tell him where you’re coming from? I bet he’d understand. You said he was scared to go for it...might be worth telling him he's not the only one.” 

Their conversation from the stoop comes flooding back: “I couldn't stand the thought of you leaving, too…You're not that fucking special. We've all been hurt. We've all lost people. We're all damaged.” He was harsh, way too fucking harsh.

“What if I fucked it up, Tico?” 

Rose shrugs. “Maybe you did. But you won’t know for sure unless you try.” 

“Yeah…” 

The two of them sit silently for a few minutes, letting their conversation just hang in the air. Eventually, Finn moves to leave for the night - whatever work he’d planned on getting back tonight is long forgotten, much like the pizza boxes that still sit on the floor - and Rose follows, cleaning up in silence. Throwing their trash away in the large hallway bins and consolidating the food into one box. She insists Finn takes it home so at least he’ll have something easy and convenient to eat for the last few days until he meets with the board. By the time they push through the front doors of the university building it’s nearly midnight and they walk in silence to the staff parking lot, both too emotionally and physically exhausted to speak anymore. When they get to their cars, parked next to each other under the one lamp post in the entire lot, Finn quickly unlocks his and throws the pizza and his bag into the backseat before turning to pull Rose into a hug. 

“Thanks for tonight, Rose. Not just the pizza...the talk, too...and the...just...thanks.”

"Of course, Finn. It’s you and me, forever. I’m always here.” 

They hug for a beat longer before letting go, smiling at each other one last time for the night. Rose walks around to her door and has just pulled the handle when she hears Finn. “Hey, if I manage to fix this and you and Poe become friends...you’re not going to make out with him are you?” 

“Oh, no promises.” Rose says with a wink, sliding behind the wheel before Finn can say anything else. Instead, he just lets out a huff of amusement and shakes his head, getting into his own car to finally drive home.

* * *

Finn paces outside the presentation hall and checks the time on his phone. 3:57. Three minutes. Three minutes until he talks his way into either another two years of health insurance or...unemployment. Three minutes. The board’s had his paper for 24 hours already - he gets why you have to submit the paper a day in advance of the presentation but what he wouldn’t give to flip through it one more time for any last second changes, however futile they’d be - and now it’s just the presentation. One, twenty minute presentation and a question and answer session. He can do this. He opens the message app on his phone and clicks on the draft that’s been lingering there since eight last night. No. It’d be pointless to send it now, he thinks. He closes out the window and then shuts off his phone, shoving it into the inner breast pocket of his jacket. He hears a door creak open behind him and whips around to see Rose and Jannah running towards him. 

“Hi hi hi! Sorry we’re late!!” Rose nearly crashes him; the two of them gasping for air. 

“Hi! What...what are you doing here?! You can’t come inside.” Finn’s looking back and forth between them as joy and gratitude collides with the anxiousness already in his chest.

“Oh, come on! Like we’d miss this?” Rose says, pulling him into a hug. “Yeah, who else is going to take you out for celebratory drinks after?” Jannah adds. 

“Let’s hope it’s celebratory, anyway.” Finn grimaces. 

The door to the hall opens behind them revealing a department intern. “Excuse me, sir, they're ready for you.” 

“Thank you.” Finn turns and gives one more glance to Rose and Jannah who give him reassuring smiles and a whispered “good luck” and “you got this,” respectively. 

Here goes nothing, Finn thinks.

* * *

Finn stands in front of the board, Doctors Erso, Rook, and Andor stoic in their seats. He clears his throat and takes a deep breath.

“Thank you for being here today.” He makes a welcoming gesture with his hands and clicks the remote, flipping to the first presentation slide. “Over the thirteen years the Cassini mission spent surveying Saturn, data revealed that Saturn’s rotation rate was not only slower than that measured by the Voyager mission 25 years prior, but that its rotation rate varied throughout the time of the mission. It’s been suggested that geologic activity blasted into space by Enceladus is at fault, with Saturn’s magnetosphere slowing as it moves through the ring of particles in Enceladus’ orbit. Another possible explanation is that the slowing of the magnetic field is a function of pressure changes in the ionosphere. However, what’s more interesting is how the uncertainties around Saturn’s magnetosphere clarify our understanding of Jupiter’s.” Finn glances towards the board members as he clicks to the next slide, their faces betray nothing. He starts again. 

“Like Saturn, Jupiter’s magnetosphere has an uneven rotation pattern, particularly in this section here.” A laser points to a deep navy part of the slide image. “The Great Blue Spot. This zone is a highly variable portion of the magnetic field that stretches and tears the planet’s field lines as it rotates, which may explain why Jupiter’s magnetic field is ten times stronger than Earth’s. What this implies is-” 

Finn feels the tension ease out from his shoulders the longer he presents. He’s in his wheelhouse here. No matter what is going wrong in his life he’s always grounded himself in science. The science always makes sense. He keeps talking, keeps clicking, sounding more relaxed and more like himself with each passing slide. By the time he gets to his conclusion he feels on top of the world delivering the customary “thank you, and I’m happy to take your questions” with more zeal than it warrants.

Dr. Erso goes first. “We’re already familiar with secular variation. How will your work on the topic over the next two years further our understanding of the concept?” 

“Given that we only recently made the first definitive detection of secular variation on Jupiter, I’m interested in the severity and extent of the variation. Though it’s most likely due to the planet’s atmospheric winds, what is the impact of these small, but distinct changes on the overall atmospheric environment? Is it possible for the magnetic fields localized to the Great Blue Spot to shear in such a way that it becomes more or less influential in the overall atmospheric environment of the planet? And what does all of this mean for our understanding of changes in Earth’s magnetic sphere?” 

“Hmm.” Dr. Erso nods and narrows his eyes in lieu of a full answer. Dr. Rook goes next. 

“Is there potential here for further study of Saturn? I don’t mean in general, I mean with your focus, specifically.” 

“I do believe there’s a potential for the concepts I study to be retroactively applied to Saturn and further narrow down the discrepancies in Saturn’s rotation rate and better understand the rate at which the planet’s magnetic field is changing.” 

The three of them take terms lobbing a few more questions Finn’s way before it’s time for the worst part of this whole ordeal. The vote. Finn stands still, hands clasped behind his back as he watches his colleagues confer with one another. He tries to listen for comments or confirmation one way or the other even though he knows it’s useless. Finally, after what feels like ages, they stand and face him, expressions blank. Another moment passes and then...Dr. Andor smiles. “Congratulations! Unanimous board approval, we look forward to your work over the next two years.” 

Finn practically rushes the table to shake their hands. A slew of “thank yous” and “congratulations” and “excellent works” and “looking forward to its” fill the room and Finn can already feel his cheeks starting to crack from smiling so wide. He did it. He fucking did it. 

Finn pushes through the doors and finds Rose and Jannah on a bench. Rose is hunched over, elbows on knees, hands clasped as she bites her thumbnails, her gaze fixed to the ground a yard ahead of her. Jannah would look downright calm, what with her hands in her lap, eyes closed, as she leans against the wall behind her, if it weren’t for the way her knee bounces with anticipation. 

“Hey,” Finn says, and two sets of eyes snap to him. 

“Welll,” Rose drags the word out as she and Jannah stand, trying to keep the buzz of excitement under wraps until they’re sure it’s good news. 

“I got it!” Finn shouts and the two of them yell in excitement immediately wrapping him in their arms. 

“Finn, I am so fucking proud of you!” Rose says. She pulls back to look at him and he catches the slightest gathering of tears in her eyes. 

“Thank you, Rose.” He turns. “And you, Jannah.” She returns his smile. “Of course.” 

“Okay well then it’s time to celebrate!! Drinks on me? Food on Jannah?” 

“Rose, I can pay-” 

“Drinks on Rose. Food on me.” Jannah interjects before he can protest any further. 

“Okay, okay!” He holds his hands up in mock surrender. “Amigo’s?” 

“Duh.” Rose says and starts down the hall.

Finn follows, reaching into his jacket pocket, grabbing his phone, and turning it back on. When the screen lights up he opens the drafted message and stares at it. Before he can talk himself out of it again, he hits send.

**Friday, November 20, 2020**

Hey. I’m sorry. Can we talk?

**Author's Note:**

> This au began as a draft in my notes app written in a sleep haze. I decided to turn it into something and make a character choice that required me to learn astrophysics. If you are a science person I am so sorry that I am so dumb. I have 0 patience for anything (up to and including my own bullshit) so I can't promise how slow this slow burn will be but hey! we'll have fun on the ride. comments, kudos, etc. always appreciated! 
> 
> xx


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